


An Error of Cat-astrophic Proportions

by TottWriter



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Also comedy?, Also lots of cursing, But now it's here, Friends to Cuddle Buddies, Humor, Look I don't know where this idea came from, M/M, Modern magic AU, Shenanigans, This is what happens when I write too many sensible things, and I had entirely too much fun writing it, idk what are tags, it's basically crack, literal fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-01-31 11:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12681114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TottWriter/pseuds/TottWriter
Summary: “Heyyy, Bokuto!” Kuroo cried, running up and draping an arm around Koutarou’s shoulder. “I couldn’t, er, borrow you for a minute, could I? Nothing major, just…just something I gotta talk to you about.”Koutarou frowned at him. “Have you seen Akaashi?” he asked.Kuroo laughed loud and fast and completely not like his usual laugh, gripping Koutarou’s shoulder tightly. “Hey, so, funny you should mention him! I’ve actually…he’s uhh…” The smile dropped. “There’s a slight chance I need your help with that.”*A modern magic AU in which Kuroo turns Akaashi into a cat (it was an accident,honest), Bokuto is angry for all the wrong reasons, and Akaashi is more annoyed than he would have words to express himself with even if hewerestill capable of human speech (which he isn't).





	1. In which Mistakes Were Made

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who I have shared excerpts of this ridiculous fic with, for cackling, encouraging, and generally enabling me to put off all my serious stories to write this delightful nonsense. What have I done.

The thing—the thing _was_ , with all said and done, no one ever looked at Bokuto Koutarou and said: “There’s an observant person, I bet he really keeps tabs of everything going on around him.”

And it wasn’t a lie or anything—he was more than aware of his tendency to get caught up with volleyball to the exclusion of pretty much everything else. So no doubt Certain People had assumed he wouldn’t miss the presence of his setter and vice-captain once the last set of the training camp was over.

…Okay so in fairness he _hadn’t_ , not at first. But! That was simply because he’d been busy checking rooms to make sure that none of his teammates had left any equipment behind when they’d packed away, and then he’d gotten roped into helping pack their things onto the bus, because that was the sort of job which was actually pretty important for a captain to do, and no matter what people tended to think of him sometimes, he was a damn good captain, thank you very much.

Besides, it wasn’t like he was Akaashi’s keeper or anything. Hell, everyone thought it was the other way round, so…so…look, the point of the whole thing was that in no way could what happened be termed _his_ fault. What, was he supposed to make sure Akaashi followed him _everywhere_ or something?

And he _did_ notice that Akaashi was missing. It just took him a few minutes too long to have stopped the whole disaster from happening, that’s all.

 

* * *

 

He’d been to Nekoma quite a few times by his third year at High School. Not enough that he was familiar with the layout of the upper floors of the main building, but enough to have a reasonably good idea of where all his teammates ought to be—and that, when he didn’t see Akaashi in any of them, something was up.  

They’d gotten everyone’s stuff on the bus, and the rest of the team and the managers were having their final half hour or so of chatting and relaxing before they parted ways. Akaashi ought to have been there. Failing that, he at _least_ ought to have been in one of the gyms, because everyone knew that he and Kuroo always practised right up until the last possible moment, and how was he meant to do spiking practice without Akaashi there to toss for him?

It was highly suspicious, really it was, and even worse because Kuroo was missing as well. Much as Kuroo was honestly one of his best friends-slash-rivals, he was also a scheming, manipulative bastard who couldn’t be trusted at the best of times. It didn’t help that when he _found_ Kuroo, he had the shiftiest, most awkward expression Koutarou had ever seen on his face, all fake relief and delight. 

“Heyyy, Bokuto!” he cried, running up and draping an arm around Koutarou’s shoulder. “I couldn’t, er, borrow you for a minute, could I? Nothing major, just…just something I gotta talk to you about.” 

Koutarou frowned at him. “Have you seen Akaashi?” he asked. 

Kuroo laughed loud and fast and completely not like his usual laugh, gripping Koutarou’s shoulder tightly. “Hey, so, funny you should mention him! I’ve actually…he’s uhh…” The smile dropped. “There’s a slight chance I need your help with that.”

Koutarou allowed himself to be led along a corridor and up two flights of stairs to a set of classrooms he hadn’t seen before. Judging by the layout of the benches inside, they were lab rooms. They certainly _looked_ like the practical workrooms at Fukurodani.

“Kuroo, why are we up here?” he asked as they walked. He didn’t get an answer, which afterwards made perfect sense. At the time though, he was just pretty annoyed, and convinced he was having his time wasted.

They stopped outside a classroom and Kuroo laid a hand on each of his shoulders. “Bokuto,” he said levelly, meeting his eyes with honestly the most sincere expression he’d ever seen the guy make. “Bokuto I need you to promise me you’re gonna try not to overreact, okay? Like, I get that you’re probably not gonna keep it quiet which is partly why we’re all the way up here, but…do your best to keep it contained, yeah?”

Koutarou frowned. “Kuroo…what has this got to do with Akaashi?”

Kuroo winced. “Well the thing _is…_ ” He cleared his throat, looked about to speak again, and then hung his head. “I think it’s better if you see for yourself,” he muttered, letting go of Koutarou’s shoulders and reaching behind him to grab at the door. “No one knows you were looking for me, right? They’re not gonna—nevermind, I set Kenma to be lookout. He’ll buzz me if anyone else comes this way.”

He glanced behind him at the small glass window set into the door, then slid the door open, dragging Koutarou through by the sleeve of his shirt.

“Close the door!” Kuroo snapped, and Koutarou did so only partly by reflex. Not so much because he acted without thinking, but because Kuroo had always been pretty good at compelling people, and honestly if that wasn’t one of the most underhanded traits the captain of a sports team could have, Koutarou didn’t know what _was_.

“Kuroo, what the hell is going on?” he said, leaning against the wall and looking around the empty room. “This is looking pretty shady, and I still don’t…wait. What the fuck? That’s Akaashi’s uniform!”

It was. There was no denying it, not least of all because it had been neatly folded with the number five of his practice vest showing, and placed on the desk nearest the door. Kuroo hadn’t even been _trying_ to hide it.

“Where the hell is Akaashi?” Koutarou cried.

Kuroo winced, gesturing for him to be quiet. “It’s…he…okay so I _maybe_ turned him into a cat.”

From the way Kuroo flinched, he’d been expecting some sort of explosive reaction—possibly along the lines of a deafening exclamation of “EHHHHH??” or similar.

As it was, all Koutarou could manage was to stare at Kuroo, jaw somewhere halfway between his head and the floor. He blinked slowly. Kuroo had done _what?_

Right on schedule, a smallish, scruffy black cat appeared from between the tables. It walked unsteadily, like there was something wrong with it. Or, say, like it wasn’t entirely used to being an actual, _literal_ cat.

“You…” Koutarou stared, alternating between the cat and Kuroo. “You turned him into a _cat?_ What the—” Bristling, he stood up straight, and pointed at Kuroo, furious. “What the hell, man? Why isn’t he an _OWL?_ ”

The pained screech which the cat let out at that moment couldn’t be called a ‘meow’ by any stretch of onomatopoeic imagination, but it nonetheless managed to convey a sense of extreme displeasure.

Kuroo snorted. “Holy shit you already pissed him off,” he said, then pulled up short and lurched backward as Koutarou lunged for him. “No, no no no wait!”

“Kuroo what the fuck!” Koutarou snapped, careful to avoid stepping on the small animal which _couldn’t possibly be Akaashi_. Akaashi was…well, granted he was pretty good-looking if people were gonna get right down to it, but it was in an altogether different way. A _human_ way, for starters. And okay it might not have been the most tactful way of saying it, but Koutarou stood by his argument that if Akaashi was going to be turned into any kind of animal, then he still had absolutely no business being a cat when _owls_ existed.

“Look it was an _accident!_ ” Kuroo cried, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “And you can’t freak out, okay? I need you to help me turn him back before someone notices!”

Koutarou glanced down at the cat, who watched him with wide, grey-blue eyes. It nodded once at him, and then raised a paw at Kuroo and nodded again.

“Holy shit you turned Akaashi into a cat,” Koutarou said, his voice high and faint with panic.  He pressed the heels of his hands to either side of his temple, as though that was going to help him wrap his head around the whole, disastrous problem. “Kuroo! Why did you turn Akaashi into a cat? What the hell were you _thinking?!_ ”

“I said it was an accident, didn’t I?” Kuroo yelled, throwing his arms up in the air. “I just…I needed some help with runes, okay, and you always go on about how Akaashi’s so great at that stuff so I asked him to help me and it…it sort of backfired. A _lot._ ”

“You don’t fucking say!”

They stared at each other, neither one saying anything until another strangled meow made them both flinch. Right. _Akaashi_. Focus.

“Okay, okay,” Koutarou said, leaning back against a desk. “So we need to buy some time, right? I mean, until you turn him back. That’s why you need me to help?”

Kuroo’s fakest of fake smiles was back, stretching across his face like a grimace.

“Er…y’see, the _thing_ is…” Kuroo said, voice wheedling and slow. “I…actually don’t know how.”

Koutarou had to let that idea settle in his brain for a moment, because it was a pretty big one. There were a lot of implications attached to it, and most of them were of the disastrous variety. Not least among them was the fact that they were all due to be getting on a bus home in the next hour or so, and their coach was probably going to expect the vice-captain of the team to actually be there.

“Okay… _okay_ ,” he said, looking down at the cat. Shit, the more he looked at it the more it really did look kinda like Akaashi somehow. “Okay so first off we gotta think up an excuse not to head back to my— _our_ school,” he said. Because it was their school. Two members of Fukurodani were in the room, not just one, even if it was very easy to just…not accept that.

The cat— _Akaashi_ —staggered over, still apparently trying to coordinate his legs, and yowled at Koutarou again. He looked over at Kuroo and yowled more menacingly.

“Man I really wish I could speak cat,” Koutarou said, dropping his head into his hands. “Jeez Kuroo, if you had to turn someone into a cat why’d you pick the only person who could actually help with this?”

“For the last time: _accident!_ ” Kuroo snapped. “You think I don’t know how completely fucked we are right now?”

Koutarou squeezed his eyes shut. It was always a lot easier to think when he didn’t have as many distractions, like lanky middle blockers waving their arms around, or small black cats which ought to be tall attractive setters. If everything was how it ought to be they’d probably still be doing spiking practice in the gym—

“I got it!” he cried, looking up. “I’ll go tell the coach that me and Akaashi are staying here late for extra practice, or we’re hanging out with you and Kenma or something. I can get the train back from here, it’s not that far.” He swallowed carefully. “I dunno what we’re gonna tell Akaashi’s family though. You think…you think they’ll buy that he’s staying over at my place?”

More yowling. Apparently Akaashi was a lot louder as a cat. Maybe because they kept forgetting he was there? Koutarou winced, and slid down to kneel on the floor next to him.

“Shit I’m sorry Akaashi!” he said, leaning down so their heads were roughly level. “You’re still…you still know you’re a person really, right?”

Akaashi let out a low _mrowwwl_ and reached out with one paw. He was probably trying to hit Koutarou to express his displeasure, but apparently being turned into a cat did a real number on a person’s coordination because all he actually managed to do was wave the paw ineffectually a few times and give the distinct impression he was about to fall over or something.

Kuroo brayed out his donkey’s laugh, leaning against the table. “Man I’m sorry,” he spluttered, waving apologetically. “But he just…he looks like he’s high on _catnip_ or something.”

“Yeah well, you try getting turned into a cat and see how well you cope!” Koutarou snapped. “This is all your fault anyway Kuroo, so stop laughing at him. It’s _serious_.” He looked back at Akaashi, holding out his hand, palm up.

“Okay Akaashi, we’re gonna fix this, right? Now. Tap my hand if you think your parents will buy you staying at my place tonight, just in case.”

Akaashi reached out with his paw once again, and poked at Koutarou’s fingers.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Kuroo said from somewhere up at however stupidly tall he was. “I know this isn’t really a joke but _please_. Let me get my phone and film this. That’s the most adorable thing I’ve seen all day.”

 

* * *

 

It was just as well that Kenma took it all seriously, because frankly _someone_ needed to, or Akaashi was going to be stuck as a cat forever.

“I found some sites,” he mumbled, holding out his phone as they walked back down the corridor. That appeared to be his sole contribution to the disaster however. Koutarou really hoped he’d be able to add something else before too much longer.

They’d left Akaashi in the classroom while they went to look for the coaches. There was too much chance of old Nekomata being able to just…magically tell by looking at him who Akaashi really was. Koutarou had to admit that if _anyone_ would be able to do something like that, it’d be the old coach. He had a shifty, cattish sort of look about him at the best of times.

“Why can’t we just ask him for help?” Koutarou had asked when Kuroo pointed that one out.

“Because he’ll have to report it!” was Kuroo’s reply, spoken with a hand running through his unruly hair as they’d jogged down the stairs. “And it’s not just me trying to stay out of trouble, okay? If he reports something like this it’ll look bad on the whole school. The whole _training camp_. What if they stop letting us have them? I…if we really can’t find a way to turn him back then sure, we’ll have to ask for help, but I don’t want to ruin things for all four teams—hell, _five_ if Karasuno are really going to be a regular feature down here from now on.” There was a short pause. “ _Plus_ there’s the fact I don’t want to get into trouble. This is the sort of shit people get criminal records over. Don’t make me ruin my whole future over an honest-to-God mistake.”

Okay, so he’d definitely had a point there, even if Koutarou _did_ feel a little uncomfortable about letting Akaashi stay stuck as a cat when technically he didn’t have to be. Still, it was all going to work out fine in the end, right?

People were _definitely_ suspicious when the pair of them made their announcement about staying behind. That was probably because Kuroo had his charm offencive on full blast, layering it with enough compulsion to believe him that even Koutarou forgot about the whole cat situation for a few seconds. Which…in hindsight probably wasn’t all that good an idea when speaking to adults as opposed to fellow students. Nekomata shot them both a very wary look, and asked to speak with Kuroo in private. Koutarou was all too happy to let him do that until he realised it meant facing Shirofuku _alone_ , and explaining to Fukurodani’s manager why neither the team’s captain nor its _vice_ -captain would be on the bus back to the school.

“Bokuto, it’s really not very responsible of you to leave all the work at the other end to everyone else,” she said, hands resting on her hips. “I can’t believe for one minute that Akaashi agreed to this plan.”

“Ah, but…you see…er…” he said, trying to remember how Kuroo had worded it. Damn, that was another problem with Kuroo trying to force people to agree with his ideas due to magical influence. It left him in the lurch when he had to do the same thing for real. “Akaashi did? Honestly, he completely agrees with me this time!”

“Bokuto you’re taking things a bit far. Where _is_ Akaashi, anyway? I haven’t seen him since the end of the last set.” Her face fell as he failed to reply. “Bokuto where is he,” she added flatly. “I want to hear this from _him_.”

“You can’t!” Koutarou spluttered holding out his hands. “You can’t talk to him because…er…he’s getting changed!”

She raised an eyebrow. “If you’re staying behind for extra practice, why is he getting changed, hm?”

 _Shit_. Where the hell was Kuroo when you actually needed him? Oh sure, he was good enough at turning people into cats, but here Koutarou was, completely blameless and taking the fall for the guy instead, simply because he was trying to help!

“ _Bokuto_ ,” Shirofuku said, tapping one foot. “Where is Akaashi.”

He folded. It wasn’t his fault—Kuroo knew damn well that talking his way out of trouble was right there at the top of the list of things Koutarou couldn’t do if his life depended upon it. What did the guy _think_ was going to happen when he went off and even took Kenma with him for moral support or whatever?

“Kurooturnedhimintoacat,” he mumbled, not meeting her eyes. He looked up when she gasped, and added: “It was an accident! And I wasn’t even there. It’s not my fault, I _promise!_ ”

“Oh my god,” she said, hands coming up to cover her mouth. “He—” she stopped abruptly and looked around. No one was nearby. “Where _is_ he?” she hissed.

“He’s talking to Nekomata and trying to convince him nothing happened because we _really_ don’t want anyone to cancel the training camps so you gotta keep this a—”

“No not Kuroo! I don’t give a damn where _he_ is. Where’s _Akaashi?_ ”

Koutarou sighed. “He’s, um, hiding in one of the classrooms. We’re gonna get him back to…I dunno, either my house or Kuroo’s and try to find a way to turn him human again.”

“Oh my _god_ ,” she said again, hands sliding up the side of her face to rub at her temples. “Is…is he okay?”

“I think so?” Koutarou said. “He can’t seem to walk straight, but I think that’s because he’s got like, two extra legs. And no arms. And…and a tail and stuff. Honestly he just seems pretty annoyed. At Kuroo. Because it’s completely his fault. And not mine.”

There was a short silence. Her face twisted, like she was trying to think of something important, or—

“Can I see him?”

Koutarou stared at her. “Ehh? I just said, he’s hiding, and—”

“But I want to _see_ him! Come onnn, he’s always so scary, and now he’s a cat? Oh my god is he cute? I bet he’s a really cute cat.”

“You can’t—he’s not an attraction or something!” He deflated a little at the desperate pleading expression on her face, and mumbled: “He’s pretty cute though, yeah.”

“Okay. _Okay,_ ” Shirofuku said, frowning with what Koutarou _really_ hoped was concentration and the beginning of ideas, or they were all completely screwed. “Here’s the deal. You let me see him—honestly I’m having a bit of a hard time wrapping my head around the whole thing without some sort of proof—and I’ll cover for you. Kaori-chan and I can make sure everyone behaves on the way back to the school.”

It wasn’t that Koutarou didn’t know that Akaashi would hate being stared at by even more people. He knew. But what else was he supposed to do? Even if they _had_ managed to convince the coaches, there was no way the whole team would be fine with it without someone there to help keep them from asking the wrong sort of questions. Plus he had to admit, now that the shock had worn off a little, the sight of Akaashi stumbling around because he didn’t know how to be a cat yet was pretty adorable. From a purely objective standpoint, of course.

“ _Fine_ , but you gotta promise you’re not gonna make a big fuss,” he said, only moving when Shirofuku nodded.

“Cross my heart,” she said, and if she looked a little too eager when she said it, well how was he meant to blame her? It wasn’t every day someone you knew got turned into a cat, right? And it wasn’t as though it was going to be _permanent_ or anything.

 

* * *

 

Koutarou led the way up to the classroom, sending a quick message to Kuroo as he went to let him know Shirofuku was in on the secret now. He’d said something about Kenma keeping watch after all, and from what he knew of the second year, Koutarou couldn’t imagine Kenma doing so without using magic in some way. He was definitely not a natural to guard duty.

They made it to the room without interruption at least. Koutarou couldn’t help himself looking around warily before he slid the door open, even though he knew that no one else had followed them. Kuroo’s warning about the future of the training camps being at stake had really struck home.

“Hey, um, Akaashi…” he said, waving for the door to be closed behind them. “So, I had to tell Shirofuku about not going back with everyone else, but then she didn’t believe me when I said you were fine with that, so I sorta maybe told her what _really_ happened and she’s cool with helping us and stuff but she’s also sorta… _here_.”

There was a distinct absence of Akaashi walking out to greet him.

He cleared his throat, all too aware of Shirofuku’s eyes on him, and the way she had folded her arms like she was starting to think it was all some sort of joke.

“Akaaaashi, come _on_ , you gotta come out sometime,” he whined, sinking into a crouch. He rested a hand on the table closest to him and peered underneath. “Where’d you even _go_ , anyway, it’s not like there’s a bunch of places to—”

He froze, a small whine escaping his mouth. Before leaving the classroom, Kuroo had tucked Akaashi’s uniform on the chair under the nearest desk, just on the off-chance of someone walking past. Apparently Akaashi had gotten at least a _little_ better at moving around while they were gone, because he’d managed to get on the chair and curl up on the uniform, nestled in the smaller space like a little puddle of darkness under the desk nearest the door.

“Oh my _god_ ,” came Shirofuku’s excited whisper from beside him, making him jump halfway out of his skin.

The desk he was leaning on scraped across the floor with a entirely too-loud screech, and Akaashi’s eyes opened wide, darting between his two spectators with visible unease.

“Uhh, I had to tell her, okay!” Koutarou spluttered. “She’s gonna help! She—hey, Shirofuku, you don’t happen to know anything about runes, do you?” he asked, brightening suddenly. “Because this whole thing started when Kuroo got Akaashi to help with some rune homework or something, and…we kinda don’t know how to turn him back.”

“What— _no!_ Shape-shifting living creatures isn’t regular High School material! Don’t you pay _any_ attention in class Bokuto? No way would they teach us anything like that. I honestly don’t even know how Kuroo managed to turn him _into_ a cat, let alone how to change him back.”

Akaashi’s head had lifted slightly while they spoke, but at Shirofuku’s proclamation he let it sink back onto the material of his practice vest, the picture of dejection.

“Oh, hey, _heyy_ ,” Shirofuku said soothingly, ducking under the table and reaching out with one hand. The pitch of her voice had raised several registers as though she were speaking to a small child. “Don’t worry, we’ll get it sorted, okay?” She turned back to look at Koutarou, mouthing: _Oh my god. Adorable._ A split second later she squealed, yanking her hand back and bumping her head on the table as she backed away. “What the _hell_ Akaashi! You scratched me!”

Koutarou did his best to keep a level expression but the odds were stacked against him from the start. He snorted, trying and failing to turn it into a cough, and then yelped as Shirofuku thumped him on the shoulder.

“Stop laughing!” she muttered, dusting her knees off and getting to her feet. “I was trying to _help_. And I’m gonna be covering for both of you, remember?”

Akaashi let out another failed meow and stretched his front legs out before standing up and shuffling forward on the chair. He didn’t jump down until the last possible moment, and tottered dangerously as he turned around and reached back up to grab the practice vest in his mouth.

At that exact moment the door slid open and revealed Kuroo, stood there with another false smile on his face.

“Hey,” Shirofuku said, getting to her feet. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

“Yeah yeah, it can wait,” Kuroo said, waving her off. “Knowing my luck Akaashi’s gonna kill me when he turns back anyway. We gotta go. They’re wrapping up downstairs and they’re going to lock the school. I’m… _pretty_ sure Coach knows I’m up to something, but I also don’t think he has any idea how bad this whole mess is, so… Look, so long as we get Akaashi out of here we can work out what to do after that, right? But they’re only going to leave the gym open, so we need to move straight off. Kenma’s slowing stuff down, but he’s pretty lazy so he won’t do it for long.

“Well how are we gonna get Akaashi down to the gym?” Koutarou asked. “ _Look_ at him—he can barely walk, still.”

They all looked. Akaashi had dragged his practice vest across the floor and dropped it beside one of the tables, staring up at them with a wary expression on his face. He shook his head, and backed up so fast he almost seemed to trip over his own feet.

_“Mrow. MROW.”_

Akaashi tapped the vest for emphasis, but honestly, whatever he was trying to say was completely lost on Koutarou because the overall effect was just like one of those Youtube videos he absolutely did not spend hours watching when he was so hyped up he couldn’t sleep.

“I think I’m gonna _die_ ,” Shirofuku whined. “This is too much, okay?”

“Yeah yeah, he’s real cute,” Kuroo said, leaning out of the door. “But can we move the kitty appreciation party downstairs? They’re gonna lock up and I do _not_ want to have to explain why I’m inside the school buildings with two of you from Fukurodani and a cat, when _three_ of you aren’t accounted for.”

He stalked forward and leant over, hesitating only a second before he reached out and scooped Akaashi off the floor with one hand.

“Right, grab his clothes and let’s— _D_ _AMMIT!_ ”

Akaashi was definitely not all that happy about being picked up, because he’d twisted himself around and raked his claws along Kuroo’s arm. The look on Kuroo’s face as he tried to simultaneously keep hold of him and get him as far from his face as possible was hilarious. Shirofuku screeched with laughter. Even Koutarou couldn’t hold back a broad grin at Kuroo’s obvious discomfort.

“Jeez, you sure learnt how to do _that_ fast enou—OW! Fine, _fine!_ I’ll put you down! Just leave me alone!”

Kuroo hadn’t managed to stand upright yet, which honestly was probably just as well because it meant that Akaashi didn’t have as far to fall when he escaped his grasp and dropped to the the ground. Shirofuku had doubled over, cackling with glee, while Koutarou did his best to keep a straight face. Funny or not, it _was_ still Akaashi, and how must he feel being picked up like that without anyone even asking him first?

Plus, as soon as they turned him human again he was gonna get _so angry._

“Okay, one of you gets to carry him because I’ve been savaged enough for one day,” Kuroo said, examining the scratches along his arm. “But we need to go.”

Koutarou looked over at Shirofuku, pleading silently with her. There was no way he wanted to actually pick Akaashi up and carry him. What if he dropped him or hurt him or worse: made him really, _really_ annoyed?

“I’ve gotta get back to everyone else,” Shirofuku said promptly, completely ignoring Koutarou’s very best puppy eyes. It was like he hadn’t even bothered or something. “You’re the only one he hasn’t attacked yet Bokuto, so you can work it out between you.” She frowned, and crouched down beside Akaashi. “I’m…sorry I can’t turn you back. And that I have to go back to the school with the rest of the team. Are you gonna be alright with these two? Because I mean…I dunno, maybe you could climb into my bag and we could smuggle you back in the bus with everyone else if you’d prefer that.”

The hiss and rapid shake of Akaashi’s head was pretty much all the answer they needed there.

“Okay, well I’d better get going then. Bokuto, you have my number, right? Let me know when he’s human again.”

“Okay,” Bokuto said, crouching down. He didn’t pay attention to her leaving the room. “So…er…I know you probably don’t want anyone grabbing you, but you really aren’t gonna like the stairs so I think I really have to—”

“Jeez Bokuto, stop putting this off. Just…try not to get mauled too badly. We can’t afford to mess about or someone’s going to catch us and we’ll all be in deep shit.”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t turned Akaashi into a _cat—_ ”

Akaashi hissed again, somehow managing to be the voice of reason and cut off the argument even though he didn’t actually have the capacity to speak any more. Koutarou hung his head.

“Sorry Akaashi,” he mumbled. “But…I mean, Kuroo’s kinda right. We do have to get you out of here so we can work out what to do. Kenma’s looking stuff up—he is looking stuff up, right Kuroo?”

Kuroo nodded. “Yeah. He even paused in the middle of a boss fight for this, so you know he’s taking it seriously.”

Koutarou whistled. “You’ll be a person again in no time!” he said cheerfully, turning back to Akaashi and beaming. “So maybe don’t attack me if I pick you up?”

Akaashi stared at him, drawing himself upright and narrowing his eyes. He glanced over at Kuroo and hissed again, before nodding placidly at Koutarou, tapping the practice vest again.

Koutarou had to admit that Kuroo was good for _some_ things, because he never would have understood what Akaashi was trying to tell them with all the tapping and stuff.

“ _Oh_. Oh, I got it! You want us to grab your stuff for you?” Kuroo said, clicking his fingers a few times. “Your bag and regular clothes and that?”

Akaashi nodded once more, eyes still narrowed as he looked in Kuroo’s direction. His expression only relaxed when the lanky bastard declared that he’d sort it out and ran off.

“Close up behind you, okay Bokuto?” he called, probably already halfway down the corridor.

Koutarou cleared his throat. “Right. Um, I never held a cat before, so…maybe you should just…jump on my shoulder or something? Do cats sit on shoulders? Wait, that’s parrots. But cats can do that too, right? I mean, I’ve seen pictures of cats sitting on like, tiny fences and stuff so you gotta be able to do that, or just…I mean it looked pretty awkward when Kuroo picked you up is all.”

The narrow-eyes face was back. Shit.

“Uh, I’ll just grab your uniform then, okay?” he said, scooping up the clothes. They made a neat pile in his arms, which did at least give him something of an idea.

“Oh, hey! You can sit on this, right?”

He’d never seen a cat facepalm before, but actually, watching Akaashi reach up with one paw and rub wearily at his forehead was strangely reassuring. It was _definitely_ Akaashi, that much was for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so picture the scene. I'm writing a genuinely serious fic. Angsty music, brooding atmosphere, the lot. Then a wild Idea appears, and lodges somewhere in my head. Such is its power that I completely lose focus for the fic I _should_ be writing, and stop to share the gem. Bad idea, Tott. Telling someone about the idea only makes it grow. And grow it did, until it turned into _this_.
> 
> I have a few more chapters written, the next of which (Akaashi's PoV) will be going up later today as they're paired. I'm going to aim for a paired update (so, two chapters) each week until this is done. We shall see.


	2. Meanwhile, Akaashi... (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, yes, this was supposed to arrive yesterday. But 12 hours isn't thaaat late for one of my updates, right?
> 
> Note: I've gone through and fixed/tweaked things throughout the latter half of this chapter, because posting things when you are somewhat sleep-deprived and also in a major hurry is _not good, folks_. Remember, do as I don't.

After a weekend of pure volleyball, Kuroo’s request that Keiji help him with some homework seemed a useful transition. Keiji might have _preferred_ volleyball to regular schoolwork, but it didn’t detract from the importance of academics, and honestly, there was something oddly satisfying about the tall, irritating middle blocker needing help with something.

He should have _known_.

He should have known it would go wrong from the moment Kuroo led him to the main part of the school building because his workbook was still in the classroom. Oh, just think for a moment Keiji, which workbooks is it that schools don’t allow their students to take home with them? That’s right, the _magic_ ones.

But no, so pleased was he with the thought that here was something the smug bastard couldn’t do, he didn’t even allow common sense to factor into his decision-making. He just let Kuroo lead him to an empty classroom and pull out some books on runes. And even worse, Keiji somehow assumed that Kuroo couldn’t possibly be so hopeless that this was a dangerous thing to do. After all, he seemed intelligent enough. He’d managed to memorise enough scientific jargon to spout off at random moments that it didn’t seem possible for Kuroo to somehow be even worse than Bokuto was with an academic subject.

Oh, how wrong he was.

“See, this is the bit I don’t get with this exercise,” Kuroo had said, holding the textbook open at a page about metamorphosis and shape-shifting. “I copied it out _exactly_ , but somehow it just never works when I try the practical steps.”

“Let me see,” Keiji had replied, still naively filled with optimism for his future. The first prickling of doubt hadn’t registered in his mind until he’d taken Kuroo’s exercise book in hand and read through the exact set of runes which Kuroo had copied from the set text. “Oh,” he’d said. “Kuroo-san, your title states that this is to reshape inanimate objects but you’ve copied out—”

“I copied it _just fine!_ ” Kuroo snapped, leaning over. “You can’t claim there’s anything wrong with my penmanship! I even did the fiddly bits on the activation signal right here, look!”

Before Keiji could stop him, before he could even think to say, _look away,_ Kuroo had traced the outline of the activation mark at the end of the inscription. The inscription which Keiji had read from start to finish and was _still holding in his hands._

He dropped the book. Of course he dropped the book—he dropped everything, because over the course of the next second or so, he went from having normal, well-maintained, and above all _human_ hands to having…

Well, it took him a few seconds to work out what he had after that, because he landed awkwardly, yelping in pain. The whole world had gone dark, and something was tangled all around him, preventing him from moving properly or determining what was going on besides every inch of his body screaming wrongness. Somewhere high above him Kuroo was swearing in a high, panicked voice.

The ground was tugged out from beneath him just as he finally seemed to be getting himself upright, and Keiji tumbled end over end until he emerged into daylight and a far, _far_ larger classroom than the one he had been in a few moments before. There was a much larger Kuroo as well.

Oh. Oh no. No, there wasn’t a larger Kuroo. There was in fact a smaller _himself_ , because he had been just about to tell the honest-to-god idiot in front of him the exceedingly fundamental mistake he had made when the spell had been activated, which meant that it had gone off, and presumably, turned him into something considerably smaller and rather lacking in opposable thumbs.

“Oh shit you’re a _cat!_ ” Kuroo said, his face twisted with the most mortified, panicked expression Keiji had ever seen. One which he would have enjoyed seeing on the far side of a volleyball court perhaps—preferably after setting a good spike for Bokuto to slam past him—but which he really, _really_ did not appreciate at that particular moment at all.

 _Well, shit, I’m a cat_ , he thought, blinking up at the perpetrator.

 

* * *

 

There wasn’t actually a ‘worst part’ about being turned into a cat—too many different facets of it combined together to make a uniquely terrible experience which he planned on exacting revenge for over many years to come—but if he’d had to pick just one thing in the first half hour or so after the transformation, it would most likely have been the fact that he was stuck in an unfamiliar body and his only company was _Kuroo_ , who was almost too busy panicking to even count.

A close second would have been the fact that due to aforementioned unfamiliarity with his body, he felt less coordinated than he had at any point in his life since—presumably—the _first_ time he’d had to learn to walk. Being given a second opportunity at the experience was not something he had ever particularly desired.

He planned on expressing these displeasures at length as soon as Kuroo turned him back. The prospect that Kuroo wouldn’t be _able_ to was lurking in the back of his mind, but he wasn’t so far gone as to allow himself to seriously contemplate it yet. Down that path lay despair, and he was altogether too busy working out how the hell digitigrade legs functioned properly to allow himself any wallowing time.

“Okay, okay,” Kuroo said eventually, pacing back and forth in the classroom. “I need help.”

“ _You_ need help?” Akaashi tried to say. What emerged instead was a strangled sound more reminiscent of something dying. Painfully and at length.

Kuroo looked down at him for the first time in a good ten minutes or so, eyes wide. He dropped to his knees with a curse, and leant forward to peer at him. Keiji flinched, recoiling so fast that he fell over. Dratted cat body.

“Oh shit, shit,” Kuroo muttered. He smiled uneasily at him. “Are…are you still in there, Akaashi? Like, give me a sign you understand or something.”

Keiji wrestled with unfamiliar limbs until he was more or less upright and stared back at Kuroo. ‘Was he still in there?’ What kind of stupid question was that? Where _else_ was he supposed to go?

“Okay, you look pretty angry,” Kuroo said, rocking back so he sat on his heels. “That’s probably good enough for now. I’m…listen, I am so sorry about this. I don’t know what happened, but I’m gonna find a way to change you back, I promise.”

Keiji blinked slowly, and kept his eyes narrow. If Kuroo somehow thought that a single apology was enough to make amends between them, he had another think coming.

“Right. Okay. Help. Uhhh…Shit.”

Hrrm. If there was any sort of positive spin which he could put on this entire disaster, Keiji supposed that it was rather satisfying watching Kuroo thrown into a situation in which he possessed none of his usual composed and cocky attitude. He was definitely going to remember all of this and throw it back in his face afterwards. Repeatedly.

“Okay I’m gonna go find some help,” Kuroo said eventually, tapping the floor with his knuckles. “I’ll, er, tidy up a bit first tho. Honestly this place looks _creepy_ with your clothes on the floor like that.”

Oh, and there was another example of Kuroo’s simply _fantastic_ prioritisation theories, Keiji realised. He stared in disbelief as a supposedly intelligent teenager took the time to stop and _fold clothes_ when he’d just turned someone into a cat and had no idea how to change him back. Honestly, he was apparently so hopeless that it wasn’t even worth protesting the idiocy, although Keiji did so at considerable length. He was damned if he was going to take this whole cat nonsense lying down, so to speak. Even if he _was_ technically lying down at that moment to save himself from the disorientation of standing on feet which had no business belonging to him.

“Yeah yeah, alright, I get it. You’re annoyed as all hell with me,” Kuroo said carelessly as he stacked Keiji’s practice gear on a desk near the door of the classroom. “We’ll be laughing about it some day though, honestly. Just think about it—how many people get a story like this to tell at parties?” He glanced down at Keiji and apparently noticed the scowl. “I mean, or not. I can’t say I really figure you as the party type, actually.”

Keiji made a mental note to _definitely_ attend as many parties as he could while at University, purely to spite that particular remark.

 

* * *

 

There was a certain inevitability to the ‘help’ Kuroo had mentioned fetching being Bokuto. Granted, circumstances had proven beyond doubt that Bokuto was infinitely superior to Kuroo when it came to the study of magic—for starters, the number of people he had turned into cats was a very reassuring “zero”—but if anyone had thought to ask Keiji who to call on in his moment of actual, genuine need, he categorically would not have picked a person whose response to finding out what had happened was to protest that he had been turned into the _wrong kind_ of animal.

“Bokuto-san, in _what world_ is that an appropriate response!” he snapped automatically, not even particularly caring that the sound which actually emerged from his mouth would be more accurately described as ‘caterwauling’. Sometimes it was about the principle of the thing.

It was at least a _little_ gratifying to see Bokuto leap to his defence, even if that came somewhat more belatedly than he’d hoped. Honestly, Kuroo needed taking down a peg or two, and he was definitely not in a position to do that while stuck in feline form. Keiji had actually never seen Bokuto as visibly angry as he was at that moment. Come to think of it, when was the last time he’d been _actually_ angry, as opposed to merely frustrated with himself or responding to provocation in the heat of the moment?

He couldn’t remember.

Bokuto was not naturally an angry person, after all. For all his numerous flaws, he generally had a very affable and friendly demeanour, which was what made it all the more surprising that for a few seconds it had genuinely looked as though he were about to come to blows with Kuroo. Besides, Bokuto even _liked_ Kuroo for some reason. Clearly his trust and friendship had been misplaced in the other captain, because what sort of rational person was so useless as to forget the basic principles of runework and actually cast an activation sigil for an inscription… but, well. There was no accounting for taste, or Bokuto’s judgement as to who made appropriate training companions, for that matter.

And at least once this whole charade was done with they’d have something to hold over Nekoma should they ever need it. Particularly the golden moment in which Kuroo actually admitted he needed Bokuto’s help with returning him to human form.

Keiji stared up at Bokuto. It was a long way, from this close to the floor, and the perspective was playing merry havoc with his attempts to focus on Bokuto’s _face_ , but he managed it, blinking deliberately in hopes that Bokuto would see it as an attempt to communicate.

…Due to the fact it was _Bokuto_ he was attempting to communicate with, he backed that up with a nod, and then pointed at Kuroo and nodded once more for good measure.

 _Yes. Him. Kuroo is the complete idiot who turned me into a cat,_ he thought, willing Bokuto to understand even though it was impossible. _He’s hopeless and you can’t leave me alone with him because I dread to think what he’ll do next._

“Holy shit you turned Akaashi into a cat,” was Bokuto’s panicked response instead.

No. No that was _not_ a helpful response. What Keiji needed was not more arguments. What he needed was someone competent—which was clearly not going to include anyone else in the room at that particular moment—who could return him to his proper form, and preferably in a discreet and tasteful manner because _all his clothes_ were stacked on a desk and he really had no desire to round out the day being returned to human shape stark naked in the classroom of a school which he did not even attend.

Bokuto was coping about as well as he had expected with the news, which was to say: badly. Honestly, he had no idea what Kuroo had been thinking in fetching him. Bokuto had a great many strengths, but none of them included runework, or what to do when your vice-captain was unwillingly shifted into feline shape. There was every chance that he would self-destruct from the stress or hopelessness of the situation, and that would leave Keiji in no better position than he was at that moment.

It was far from an easy matter coordinating his legs to walk over to Bokuto, but it had to be done. There was absolutely no way he wanted to risk being left alone with Kuroo again.

“Bokuto-san,” he called, trying not to let it bother him that he didn’t sound like either a human _or_ a cat when he tried speaking. It had worked. That was the only thing which mattered. He glanced over at Kuroo, and growled: “Do _not_ let him do anything else.”

Except, of course, Bokuto had no idea what he was trying to say. He struggled with the finer points of _Japanese_ at times, and that was his native language. Honestly, there were occasions when Keiji thought the only language Bokuto truly spoke was volleyball. An uncharitable thought, perhaps, but entirely justified considering that he had been _turned into a cat_ and the only two people who knew were too busy trying to cover their own asses to get their priorities in order and change him back.

“I don’t particularly need to stay at _anyone’s_ house if you would simply find someone who can make me human again!” he cried, futilely, as they attempted to make contingency plans. “You need a reverse to the incantation, and it shouldn’t be too difficult to find if you simply ask someone who knows what they’re doing!”

For an answer, Bokuto apologised, knelt down and peered carefully at him.

“You’re still…you still know you’re a person really, right?”

“ _Bokuto_ ,” Keiji growled. He reached out to—lifted a leg to—oh for _heaven’s_ sake, why was it so difficult to coordinate this dratted body? All he wanted to do was add emphasis to his extreme frustration—in what world had he given the impression that he’d lost the power to think properly?—and his arms/legs picked that moment to completely mess with his brain, because they were entirely the _wrong shape_ , and suddenly it was a screaming wrongness which took over and distracted him because he was a _cat_ , and damn Kuroo for laughing. He was going to regret that one very soon. As soon as Keiji no longer felt as though the whole world had come unglued, in fact.

Panic and indecision were not emotions which ruled Keiji for long, and by the time Bokuto had shut down Kuroo’s immature response he’d reasoned things out with himself and calmed down. Logically, there was no way this would be permanent. He _would_ be returned to human form, and while it was deeply frustrating that he could  and _was_ complaining about it bitterly and at length only for no one to understand him, there was little sense in losing his head over the fact. It would resolve itself, and he would express himself perfectly well when that happened. Repeatedly. With considerable emphasis on how it was _entirely Kuroo’s fault._

Bokuto met his eyes again. “Okay Akaashi, we’re gonna fix this, right? Now. Tap my hand if you think your parents will buy you staying at my place tonight, just in case.”

Well. That was an angle he hadn’t expected Bokuto to cover. He wasn’t entirely sure his parents _would_ believe such an excuse, but then again the chances of them being particularly worried either way were low. He was a well-behaved teenager and made a point of being honest and studious. There was no reason for them to be concerned for his welfare if a situation were presented to them properly. It wasn’t as though they suspected that he would be exposed to the sort of person who could, say, turn someone into a cat through gross ineptitude.

Concentrating, ensuring that his _leg_ didn’t waver, he reached out and tapped Bokuto’s fingers. There. Not so hard. No need to fall over just because his entire body had changed shape and, frankly, the heightened hearing and smell and vision were starting to press in on him a little more and it was certainly going to take more than half an hour or so to adapt to the sensory overload.

Really, it was something of a relief when Kuroo and Bokuto left. Not _entirely_ a relief, because after they closed the door he realised that he was, in effect, locked inside the classroom. Should anyone else come along they would be highly unlikely to realise he was actually a human, but the pair of them had been very loud, and his head was throbbing. Oh. Kuroo had tucked his practice kit under the desk. If he sat on it—he had absolutely no desire to sit on the floor no matter _how_ clean it may or may not have been—he could close his eyes and recover a little from the shock to his system.

The clothes had been left on a chair. Of course they had. Nothing else about the day had been simple, so why should he have expected convenience? If he’d been in a more charitable mood he might have appreciated that Kuroo at least appeared to be treating his belongings with respect. He was definitely not in a charitable mood. 

It took altogether too many attempts to work out how to tense his muscles just enough to jump up onto the chair without going too far and hitting his head on the underside of the desk. By the time he made it, his forehead was rather sore. Getting into a position where he could comfortably lie down was fiddly, but with his legs tucked under him the rest of his body settled well enough. The tail…well, the less he thought about that the better, but it was hard to ignore all the while it was pressed up against the back of the chair. It took a little experimentation to get it to sweep around to the side enough that he could ‘catch’ it with his front paws and tuck it close. The sooner someone competent came along and changed him back, the better.

He closed his eyes because his head hurt, and the darkness was restful. And he had picked the chair with his clothes on because he wanted anyone who entered the room to associate them with himself. It certainly had nothing to do with anything else. The space between the chair and the desk was small and secure, and he was less likely to be seen anyway, and no one would be _looking_ except for Bokuto and Kuroo, so it made perfect sense for him to remain there, quietly tucked out of the way. And if he was tired and wanted to rest, could anyone blame him? He’d read about the effects of shape-shifting on the body a little, and although accounts varied they all mentioned how genuinely exhausting it was to learn how to manoeuvre an unfamiliar body.

There was definitely no reason for him to wake up and find not only Bokuto but _Shirofuku_ staring at him, the latter with such a transparently joyful expression on her face that he had a sudden, entirely rational fear that some sort of video footage of him in his compromised state had already been obtained.

“Uhh, I had to tell her, okay!” Bokuto said, rushing the words out so fast he was practically stumbling over them. “She’s gonna help!”

Well, Keiji rather doubted that. It wasn’t that she was a bad person—she was certainly by far the most responsible individual out of those who apparently knew about this entire disaster—but he could tell that she had become emotionally compromised due to the fact he was a cat, and there were definitely going to be unpleasant consequences as a result. Kuroo had already proven that people were entirely too willing to use the fact he couldn’t actually _speak_ as an opportunity to talk over him, fuss around, and generally act as though he were suddenly completely incompetent and incapable of understanding his surroundings. Purely because he was far smaller and covered in fur.

Oh, and of course Shirofuku had no idea how to actually help. That would have been too convenient. Honestly, did none of them have the brains required to actually look at Kuroo’s textbook and work out what had gone wrong? He’d hoped that she might have some common sense, but apparently that hope had been entirely misplaced.

“Oh hey, _heyy_ ,” she said, speaking to him as though he were an invalid, or worse, an infant. “Don’t worry, we’ll get it sorted, okay?”

As if the patronising line weren’t bad enough, she reached out as though she were attempting to pat him. _Pat him,_ or worse…No. No he was absolutely not putting up with that indignity on top of everything else.

It was frankly as much a reflex as anything else. He hadn’t particularly planned to do anything more than bat her hand away and get her to leave him alone, but ah, yes. Cats had retractable claws, and apparently stretching out his leg _just so_ allowed them to protrude. His rapid swipe had caught the side of her hand, which was quickly drawn back with a shriek.

“What the hell, Akaashi! You scratched me!” she cried.

 _Of course I did_ , he thought irritably. _You wouldn’t have dared attempt that if I were human-shaped, so why do you think I would permit it just because I am temporarily feline?_

Bokuto apparently found the entire situation hilarious. That was something of an inevitability. It was seldom possible for Bokuto to remain serious for any length of time. Even his more pronounced mood swings hardly ever lasted past a few minutes.

“You’re meant to be _helping_ ,” he tried to say, resigned to the hopelessly unpleasant noise which emerged instead. Right. If they were going to coo over him for being comfortable, he might as well get down and attempt to remind them that he was still the same person as usual.

…Which would be a lot easier if he could work out how to jump down from the chair in a cat’s body. It wasn’t as though the ground were far away, but adapting to the shift in perspective was not an instantaneous thing, and it was difficult to reconcile that he was really only half a metre off the ground when his brain was largely convinced it had to be three or four times that.

He put off the leap, stretching out his front legs both to remind himself that they were in fact _legs_ , and not arms. He _could_ land on them. Would have to, in fact. That done, he edged closer to the front of the chair, shuffling until he could feel the curve beneath the pads of his feet. Well. There was no more room to go forward without jumping down. No going back.

Really, it could almost have been described as falling off the chair more than it was an actual jump, but he did at least manage to stick the landing. The success was lessened somewhat by the fact that the process of turning around once he had landed almost tripped him over The dratted tail was in the way again, muddling with his sense of balance, and having become _aware_ of his claws, it was hard to go back to forgetting about them. Never had he been more aware that cats technically walked on their tiptoes.

Hooking his practice vest was like trying to pick something up with mittens on, or with a dead arm. He got the…the _paw_ in the right position, but actually managing to do anything useful with it was out of the question. There was actually less indignity in stretching a little further and grabbing hold of the fabric with his mouth. Jaw opened slightly. Unwieldy teeth positioned gingerly around the material, careful not to tear it. All that was left to move backwards and hop down from the chair so that he was on the ground again. It was a long stretch to imagine that his plan would actually _work_ , but there weren’t exactly a surplus of alternatives for him to choose from.

The door slid open as he was pulling it down. Keiji would never admit just how relieved he was about the timing—Kuroo was _not_ someone he wanted to be thankful for in any fashion at that particular moment—but it did have the advantage of drawing both Bokuto _and_ Shirofuku’s attention, meaning that neither of them saw the practice vest land on top of him, or the rather less than dignified way he scrambled to get out from underneath it and arrange himself such that he could drag the thing out from under the table.

They were discussing how to leave the school by the time he emerged, which likely wasn’t a good sign. How would leaving help, when the likelihood was that they had everything they needed to reverse the mishap in the classroom with them?

“Well how are we gonna get Akaashi down to the gym?” Bokuto was asking. “ _Look_ at him—he can barely walk, still.”

Keiji stared up at them, watching and realising that the same thought was occurring to each of them in turn. He could practically _hear_ the gears turning, the collective realisation of: ‘Oh, Akaashi is a small cat and badly coordinated, one of us will have to carry him because there haven’t already been enough indignities in his afternoon so far.’

He shook his head, backing up so that they got the message that he did _not_ approve. It might have gone better had his legs not tangled beneath him slightly, but he managed to stay upright, which could only be a good thing. 

“No. _NO,_ ” he said flatly, tapping the vest. _His_ vest. Could they not see that he was a _person?_ Since when was it acceptable to just go around casually picking people up because it made things more convenient? 

Apparently the connection between Keiji the cat and Keiji the respectable vice-captain of a powerhouse school’s volleyball team was impossible for them to see. He’d hoped that the head shaking combined with the _clear_ discomfort he had to be indicating would have been enough, but when Kuroo stalked over and _actually picked him up_ it became very clear that at that moment all they saw was an animal.

To be perfectly honest he reacted as much from reflex as anger. As bad as it would have been to be unexpectedly picked up in a _human_ body—although frankly the possibility of that happening was rather unlikely given that he was considerably taller than the average person and therefore much heavier than an average person too—being picked up as a _cat_ was worse.

For starters, he was still trying to get to grips with the shape he currently found himself. Coordinating his body was hard enough even when gravity wasn’t being applied from entirely different angles. In addition, the physiology of a feline body meant that being gripped around the ribcage alone felt even more wrong and disorientating than standing flat on the ground. Unfamiliar and alien instincts kicked in, screeching that this was bad bad _bad_.

The point was, it should have been no surprise that he reacted badly: twisting and arcing to escape Kuroo’s hold, and clawing at him with his front legs in the process. He didn’t especially care about Kuroo’s yelp of pain, and his protests that Keiji stop. What he cared about was being returned to the ground _that very second,_ because frankly there was absolutely no excuse for this sort of treatment and also he had attempted to _warn_ Bokuto that Kuroo was trouble several times since being shapeshifted. Bokuto should have stopped it before it _started_. 

It was beyond frustrating that when he eventually _did_ escape the scheming, underhanded grasp of his least-favourite person at that moment, he landed in an ungainly heap while Shirofuku filled the air with screeching laughter and Kuroo muttered obscenities while examining his arm. Keiji was entirely satisfied to see several parallel scratches had been left behind, one or two of which were bleeding a little. Perhaps that would reinforce the message that he did not appreciate being treated as though he had lost all sense of himself. 

Well, perhaps not, but it did at least deter Kuroo from making any more attempts to manhandle him, which he supposed was _something_. Not that Shirofuku’s subsequent offer for him to hide in her bag was much better. Climb into a bag and hide there for the entire duration of their drive back to the school, while being half-suffocated because no doubt they would be unable to leave the bag open? Thanks but no thanks, and incidentally how had she honestly believed that it was something he’d be willing to do?

She seemed genuinely contrite about being unable to help at least, which was more than could be said of Kuroo and Bokuto as they argued over how to transport him to the gym he didn’t particularly have any desire to visit at that moment.

Well, perhaps he was being unfair. Bokuto _did_ express considerable discomfort at the thought of picking Akaashi up and just carrying him around as though he were an insentient lump of meat. Keiji resolved to be more forgiving of Bokuto as soon as he mustered up the energy to feel anything other than completely fed up with the entire nightmare situation he found himself in.

It was probably going to take a while, because even if Kuroo technically correct in guessing that Keiji wanted his belongings brought with him should they go through with their plan of gathering at Kuroo’s house—and _there_ was a plan which had ‘disaster’ written all over it—that actually hadn’t been what he was intending to say when pointing at the practice vest. The message that he was an intelligent and responsible individual was yet to make it through their skulls.

He nodded anyway—the last thing he wanted was to end up at Kuroo’s house without any clothing to his name—but kept his eyes narrowed. Why was it so hard for any of them to understand that he wanted them to stop treating him like ‘poor Akaashi who got turned into a cat,’ and more like ‘Akaashi who actually knows what he’s doing if anyone will take five minutes to think up a sensible and half-decent method of communicating effectively.’

Keiji was not even remotely surprised that Kuroo used this interpretation of his gesture as a chance to go and fetch his bags from wherever they had ended up at the training camp, darting out of the room before he even finished talking to Bokuto. The whole situation was rapidly descending into a comedy of errors, and the only thing which more perfectly proved that than Kuroo fleeing the scene of the crime at the earliest opportunity was the way Bokuto haplessly attempted to broach the subject of smuggling him out of the school.

Because really. Sitting on his _shoulder?_ He was _not_ about to become a temporary loyal animal companion simply because he was the victim of gross ineptitude.

And although it was true that there was something a _little_ endearing about the way Bokuto was so transparently worried about it all…oh no, had he actually thought that? Bokuto was not _endearing_ . He was a capable if overenthusiastic volleyball player and teammate who was also entirely too much hard work. And Keiji was _still annoyed with him about the owl comment._

He rubbed wearily at his face, quashing the prickle of satisfaction that he’d mustered the coordination to do it with a cat’s front leg. Oh great, so he’d been turned into a cat and somehow it _wasn’t_ the most awkward and potentially embarrassing thing to have happened that day.

 _I am going to make Kuroo regret this for the rest of his life,_ he thought sourly, deciding to put off his minor emotional crisis for another time.Such as one where he was not about to let Bokuto carry him to the gym. With his arms. With his _arms_ , for pity’s sake. It probably would have been simpler if Kuroo’s damn runes had just blown up in his face, because there was clearly no way he was going to get out of this situation with his dignity intact.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Honestly this fic is entirely ridiculous and I make no apologies.


	3. in which Much Dignity Is Lost

  
Carrying a cat _plus_ a pile of clothes was definitely a bit of a pain, but Koutarou managed to get both cargoes safely down to the back of the gym where they had arranged to meet. Which was all very well, but it left him with what probably ought to have been the obvious question of: “What next?”

The doors were unlocked, but there really weren’t any places to hide a cat inside the gym, and people would definitely have a lot of questions to ask if they found Akaashi in there with them. Questions like: “Who let an animal wander in here?” and: “Why are you missing Akaashi, who’s meant to be in here setting for you?” and “Wow that cat kinda looks a lot like Akaashi, is there something you’re not telling us?”

No, it was easier to hide round the back, and then duck out of school grounds once everyone else had left. An excellent idea, if he did say so himself. Kuroo’s captain privileges meant he had the keys, so all in all it was a flawless plan. Completely perfect.

“I thought of a problem,” Kuroo said when he returned with Akaashi’s bag. “Oh, and your manager says that everyone else is pretty annoyed that you’re ditching them, but apparently they’re not surprised, so I guess that part’s okay.”

“What’s the problem?” Koutarou asked. “I mean, we’re doing everything just fine, right? We’re gonna get Akaashi back—”

“Yeah, but _how?_ ” Kuroo said, leaning against the wall. “I mean, it’s not like carrying him through an empty school. We have to catch the _train_ , you know? They won’t let you just walk on with a cat in your arms. And it’s gonna be even worse if we get stuck and you actually have to take him back to your place. By the time you add up the train and the walking you’ll have to do it’s, what…an hour’s trip, all told?”

That…was definitely true.

Okay, so maybe his excellent, perfect plan hadn’t factored _everything_ he possibly ought to have considered. He leant back against the wall, half-consciously hugging the bundle of fabric and fluff in his arms closer.

Akaashi yowled. It sounded _slightly_ less awful than the earlier ones, but not by a lot. Man, he really made a terrible cat. _Definitely_ would have been better as an owl.

As though sensing Koutarou’s thoughts, Akaashi turned and narrowed his eyes, before pointing firmly at the ground with one paw. Kouarou gently lowered him down, and winced as he leapt the last bit of distance to the ground and landed in an ungainly heap. Cute he might have been, but graceful he absolutely was not.

Kuroo snorted, covering his mouth with one hand to stifle his laughter. “You know Akaashi, if I wasn’t already one hundred percent aware that you’re gonna kill me when you turn back, I would be enjoying this _so_ much more.”

Man, it was actually pretty weird how Akaashi managed to look so much like himself as he shook himself off, hissed menacingly in Kuroo’s direction, then sat and pointed directly at the bag which Kuroo had slung over one shoulder. Koutarou couldn’t help but be relieved that there was no accompanying screechy noise though. If anyone heard them and came to see what was going on, there was no way that Akaashi would pass for a normal cat with the way he was acting.

“Your bag?” Kuroo asked, shrugging and dropping it to the ground. “You’re not gonna be able to carry it though. I mean, you’re kind of a cat right now.”

Oh, the yowling was back. And apparently Akaashi had gotten better at walking, because he lunged at Kuroo and managed to rake claws down his shin, leaving several long, parallel scratches before Kuroo could leap back out of his reach with a yelp.

“Ah _shit!_ Okay okay okay! I’m sorry! Just… _stop doing that!_ ”

“It’s pretty much all your fault though Kuroo,” Koutarou said, shrugging and biting back a grin. “I mean, I don’t blame him for being angry. _I’d_ be angry if I got turned into a cat.”

“Don’t you dare say this is because he’s not an owl again Bokuto, because I swear—”

The inhuman—and frankly, barely even _feline_ —screech Akaashi let out at that moment cut him off. Right. Yeah. They did have other stuff to be doing, didn’t they. Honestly though, the whole day had been so completely thrown off course that could anyone blame him for finding it hard to keep focused? He was meant to be playing volleyball, not working out how to smuggle a cat which was really a person onto a train.

Wait, did people need train tickets even if they’d been turned into cats? He was pretty sure they didn’t, because honestly, it wasn’t like anyone could check, but technically Akaashi was still a person, even if he wasn’t person-shaped any more, and people were meant to pay to use the train.

Meanwhile, Akaashi had managed to get the bag open somehow. Koutarou half wondered if one of them ought to have helped with that. Frankly though, the danger of being mauled was a bit too high for him to feel like chancing it, and apparently Kuroo felt the same way because he was just watching from a distance. Well, that and looking something up on his phone.

“Okay,” Kuroo said, as Akaashi started rummaging inside his bag. “I looked it up, and I think I know what we have to do. We need to stop by a pet supply store.”

Akaashi froze, and retreated from his bag slowly. He stared at Kuroo and shook his head.

_“Mrow. MROWL MROWL MROWL.”_

“I don’t think he likes that plan Kuroo,” Koutarou said, edging back a little. “Maybe we should—”

“Look do you want to be able to go home or not? It says here that animals can’t just ride on the train. They have to be _in_ something, and before you empty that whole bag out Akaashi I am pretty sure that’s not what they meant.”

Akaashi glared up at Kuroo and hissed, then hung his head. After a moment he shook his head and continued rummaging in the bag, before apparently losing patience with whatever it was he was actually planning to do and just grabbing the base of it, upending the whole thing onto the floor. He leapt at the phone which skittered out and clattered to the ground, examining it for a few seconds before nudging it towards Koutarou with one paw.

Koutarou crouched down to pick it up, although he really didn’t know what Akaashi wanted him to do with the phone. Was he meant to call someone? But they couldn’t _tell_ anyone what had happened—that would lead to the same ‘report it’ problem that Kuroo had mentioned. Anyway, when it came right down to it, he was well aware that given a choice between himself and the other captain, anyone hearing what happened was unlikely to think Kuroo could be responsible. Besides, apparently Kenma was already looking up how to turn Akaashi human again, so there really wasn’t any need to call for help, was there?

“Uhh,” was all he actually managed to say. After all, it really wasn’t every day that people got turned into cats. How was he meant to know how to talk to people who—temporarily at least—weren’t even human any more? It wasn’t like he had a translation guide.

“Akaashi, whoever you want Bokuto to ring, it can wait. I don’t fancy our chances if we start making calls about it while we’re still on school grounds. Let’s just…look, you just need to suck it up and get in a box. It’s only a few stops on the train. You can hide in your schoolbag on the way to the pet supply store if you want, but honestly? I don’t see any other way of doing this.”

Koutarou wasn’t entirely sure Akaashi would agree with that. He’d probably thought up something already—at least, Akaashi seemed to always know what to do the rest of the time. But it wasn’t exactly as though he could _share_ any of those plans, so for the time being they had to just go along with it, didn’t they?

“Akaashi, I’m pretty sure we’re gonna need to do some more magic to get you back to normal, and we can’t do that here,” he said. “Maybe you can pick the box, if that helps?”

From the expression on Akaashi’s face as he said that, it did not help. Not even a little bit. Koutarou didn’t have to be the most observant person in the world to tell that. But equally, it didn’t seem like Akaashi really objected to the whole plan so much any more, which had to be progress. He hung his head a little, tail flicking from side to side—actually, did he even know he was doing that? Hrmm. Probably one to worry about later.

Kuroo cleared his throat. “Look, the sooner we can all get safely to my place, the sooner we can get this whole mess sorted out, right? It’s my mistake, I’ll buy the damn box. Least I can do.”

Oh that was the _wrong_ thing to say. Akaashi hissed and lunged for Kuroo again, and honestly Koutarou tried to keep it in, really he did, but the sight of Kuroo in a complete panic because he was being chased by a small cat which kept tripping over its own paws was just too funny for words to describe. By the time Kenma appeared he was clutching his sides because it hurt to even _breathe_.

“Kuro, stop it,” Kenma said softly. “Whatever you did, say sorry.”

It took a few seconds for the words to take effect because Koutarou was laughing so loudly that it honestly had to have been pretty hard for Kuroo to hear what was said, but the way he pulled up short when he did register the words was almost as funny. Akaashi reacted a little more slowly even than that, and managed to get another long scratch down his shin before backing off and sitting on the floor to stare at Kenma. Which was a little bit odd really, because Akaashi normally had really _good_ reactions, but Koutarou figured that being turned into a cat was enough to throw anyone off.

After a few more seconds thought about it all he realised that it had probably been on purpose and laughed again, but by that point Kuroo had started to mumble his apology to Akaashi and the laughter was enough to make everyone stare at him.

Koutarou cleared his throat, standing up straighter. “It just looks funny,” he said, shrugging. “Anyone who saw us now would wonder why we were all talking so seriously to a cat.”

Oh shit. Even as the words left his mouth, Koutarou realised his mistake. Akaashi’s narrowed eyes turned on him, and he found himself backing up a step, hands outstretched.

“No wait, that’s not what I meant! I’m sorry Akaashi, please don’t attack me!”

“You’re all hopeless,” Kenma said, sighing. “Are you just going to stand there all day until someone comes along and catches you?”

Koutarou winced. Right, they _did_ have to worry about being found, didn’t they.

“Akaashi should climb in someone’s bag for now,” Kenma said. “People won’t stare at a cat following us, but you said he can’t walk properly yet and we don’t want anyone else to interfere. Also, Lev is probably still somewhere because he saw that I didn’t leave yet and wanted me to toss for him. He’s a problem when it comes to cats, so you don’t want him to spot you Akaashi. He’ll try and grab you.”

“Oh yeah, I remember that,” Kuroo said, grinning. “That was the thing with the tree, right?”

Koutarou winced at the expression Kenma shot Kuroo for that one. Apparently he could be just as scary as Akaashi when he wanted to be. Was it something about setters? Even Karasuno had one who looked like he’d be ready to kill someone at a moment’s notice. All that strategising _had_ to have some sort of lasting effect.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi climbed into his own bag in the end and allowed Bokuto to carry it, but they could all tell how much he hated the idea. Especially after he hissed at each of them in turn.

The nearest pet supply store was a fifteen minute walk according to their internet search, and when they got there it didn’t have all that great a selection of cat boxes. Koutarou could hardly get over how _small_ some of them were, even if they did feel really awkward to carry when he picked them up to test them out.

“What do you think Akaashi?” he whispered, hoping that the person working in the shop wouldn’t hear him. “I mean, it won’t be for long, right? Kuroo said his place is just a few stops on the train, and you can get out straight away after that.”

There was a low grumbling from inside the bag. Koutarou wasn’t sure whether it was meant to be encouraging or not, but really, it was a bit late to be having second thoughts about all this. They had to get Akaashi back to a safe place _somehow_ , and honestly, sitting in a cat box for a few minutes on the train seemed a lot better than sitting in a sports bag for however long it would take to walk there.

In the end none of that mattered though, because it turned out that almost all cat boxes were _really expensive_ , and they could only actually afford a basic one. Akaashi didn’t really look very impressed by it as they walked out of the shop and ducked down an alleyway, but then again he hadn’t particularly looked like he wanted anything to do with any of them, and maybe he felt better about hiding inside a plain box instead of one of the ones which had extra cushions and fancy designs over the sides?

“Look I wasn’t going to bankrupt myself over a damn cat carrier when I’m already up to my neck in trouble over this,” Kuroo muttered, folding his arms and glaring at Akaashi as he looked up at him, eyes narrowed. “Don’t give me that evil look. You don’t need something with bells and whistles on for all of twenty minutes.”

Koutarou had never seen a cat sulk before. Actually he’d never seen _Akaashi_ sulk before, for that matter, so seeing both at the same time was a pretty educational experience. The reluctance with which Akaashi climbed into the box was obvious to all of them, even Kenma apparently.

“Akaashi, if it makes you feel better I can give you some good blackmail about Kuro so he doesn’t tell anyone about this afterwards,” he said, ignoring the look of pure betrayal that Kuroo shot his way. “He’s hopeless, so I have plenty.”

Akaashi nodded his thanks from inside the box, and then pulled the door closed with one paw before retreating so far inside that they could barely see him at all.

“Right,” Koutarou said. “Let’s go. We have to get Akaashi changed back soon, because otherwise we really will have to call his family and make up some kind of excuse.”

A low _mrowl_ from the box was Akaashi’s response. Koutarou figured that meant he was okay with being picked up and leant down.

“You have to fasten the door,” Kuroo said. “It’s gonna swing open otherwise.”

“I’m not locking him inside!” Koutarou snapped. “I…look, I’ll wedge his practice vest in there and that’ll stop it swinging open on his own, but he’s still a _person_ , Kuroo. I’m not locking him in a box just because you’re the worst person at runes in the whole world.”

Kenma snorted. From somewhere in the box there was a strangled sound like Akaashi was coughing something up. Oh god, was that how cats laughed? It was simultaneously the best and worst sound in the whole entire world.

“Fine, fine, whatever,” Kuroo said, waving him off. “But if they check the box and _make_ you lock it, don’t complain to me. Let’s just hope no one looks too closely.”

 

* * *

 

Koutarou hadn’t really thought about the biggest problem with carrying a cat on the train. He’d honestly believed it would be getting him on it in the first place, but oh, how wrong he’d been. Never in his wildest dreams would he have believed that the true danger would be _cat lovers_.

_“Oh, a precious kitty?”_

_“Oh, can I see?”_

_“Oh, so fluffy, he’s just the cutest thing!”_

Old ladies cooed and fussed over the carrier. A small girl actually tried to poke her fingers inside, asking if she could _pet him_. Koutarou spluttered a refusal and then immediately regretted it when the little girl’s face crumpled and she gazed up at him as though he were the worst person in the world.

“Oh! No no no! I’m sorry little girl! I just..he just…” Koutarou swallowed, knowing even amid his panic that he was dooming himself. “He's just mean, that’s all! I don’t want you to get hurt! He… he already scratched my friend today, you see.”

The crumple lifted and the little girl visibly brightened, rubbing her eyes with the back of one hand. Her mother smiled indulgently at her, watching as the girl leant down to peer inside the carrier. She frowned at Akaashi.

“He _does_ look pretty mean,” she announced after a moment.

Beside him, Kuroo erupted into horrendous, braying laughter, and even Kenma’s face lit up with amusement. Koutarou wasn’t sure if he was more amused or horrified.

“H...he’s a bit disoriented today,” he managed eventually, his voice strangled and weak.

Kuroo swallowed the remainder of the awful laughter and cleared his throat. “You don’t say,” he remarked, looking down at his legs.

Really, the ground ought to have opened up and swallowed him whole, because the fact of the matter was that as soon as they changed Akaashi back into a person, he was going to absolutely destroy Koutarou. There would be no return from his anger. Nothing was safe any more.

When the train pulled into the station a few seconds later, he could have wept with relief.

…Or, then again, he could simply have been exchanging one form of torture with another. Everyone on the carriage watched them get on, standing awkwardly by the door with their bags of sports gear and a cat in a carrier. Eyebrows were raised, old ladies peered close. Salarymen peered curiously out of the corner of their eyes, trying not to make it obvious that they were staring at how really, _really_ strange the four of them had to look.

Kenma was playing a video game. Kuroo looked shiftier than he ever had, and he, Koutarou, was carrying two bags of sports kit and a cat in a carrier. He turned to stare out of the window. Two or three stops, that was all. And then they could get Akaashi human again and go home on the train and pretend this whole thing just…never happened at all.

“Okay,” Kuroo said when they were finally walking down the street again. “So, my parents probably won’t like the thought of me bringing animals home, and I’m obviously not about to tell them what really happened—”

Akaashi interrupted at that moment with a loud, angry screech, but after pausing to take a breath Kuroo acted like nothing had happened:

“…And before anyone makes any further complaints that’s because honestly it will take longer to explain. Kenma, over to you…you were looking things up, right?”

“You never said to do that Kuro,” Kenma placidly replied.

“I did.”

“You did not.”

“I really, _really_ did, Kenma.”

“You did not.” Kenma cleared his throat and looked up at Kuroo. “You rushed over in a panic and told me what happened and that _you_ didn’t know what to do. I looked up a couple of sites because I figured you needed the help but it’s not easy to find that sort of information.”

“Kenma, you were meant to save the day!”

“It’s not that simple,” Kenma said, shrugging. “I showed you the site and you could see that most of the information needs you to create an account and prove that you’re allowed access. It’s a campus thing.”

They walked in silence for a few moments. Koutarou had slightly lost track of what was going on between the two of them, but he could tell by the expression on Kuroo’s face that it probably wasn’t good at _all_.

“Let’s…let’s just get back to mine and sit and think for a minute, yeah?” Kuroo said eventually. He had the fake smile back, which was _definitely_ not a good thing.

 

* * *

 

Kuroo’s house was pretty nice actually. There was a small garden at the front, and a slightly larger one at the back, and best of all no one else was at home when Kuroo opened the door and announced that he had friends over.

“Quick, head upstairs,” he muttered. “My mother will be back soon, and it’ll be easier to explain things if we’re well-established in my room.”

Kuroo’s bedroom was less nice than the rest of his house. It actually wasn’t all that different in size than Koutarou’s, but there were schoolbooks piled in heaps on the floor, and the volleyball posters were for the wrong team, and they were all exactly straight on the walls and where was the fun in that? What, did he sit and measure them all with a ruler?

The curtains had been closed when they walked in which made it darker, but after telling them all to make themselves at home, Kuroo marched across the room and opened them, allowing the sunlight in.

Koutarou had already pulled Akaashi’s practice vest away from the door to the carrier and swung it open. He set it down on the bed, but apparently Akaashi was still sulking because there was a distinct lack of movement from inside.

“Just leave him be,” Kenma said, settling down into what was obviously a regular spot in a pile of cushions in the corner. “He’s probably sick of everyone staring at him.”

“Right,” Kuroo said, fetching the laptop from his desk. He sat down beside Kenma and opened it up. “So what’s the site, Kenma? Do we need to fake some details?”

“Oh please, as _if_ you’re gonna do that,” Koutarou said.

Kuroo looked up from his laptop. “We might not have a choice,” he said. “Look, I don’t think you quite appreciate what deep shit we’re all going to be in if we can’t get him human again. It’s completely illegal to shapeshift people without their permission, and even _more_ illegal to shapeshift minors.”

A long, unhappy yowl told them Akaashi’s feelings on the matter.

“Look I already said sorry,” Kuroo snapped. “I’m gonna _fix_ it, okay?”

Kenma kicked him in the shin. “He’s allowed to be annoyed,” he said, eyes narrowed. “Stop getting so defensive.”

“Yeah!” Koutarou said, pointing an accusatory finger in Kuroo’s direction. “You turned him into a cat and he already had a bunch of strange people staring at him and trying to poke him. You’re gonna owe him basically forever.”

“Can we just get on with this?” Kuroo said. “The sooner we work out what to do, the sooner he _won’t_ be a cat any more, right?”

He stared down at the screen, frowning as he typed a few things in. Koutarou slumped down beside the bed, watching him work. Kenma was staring at his phone, but by the way he kept glancing between the screen and Kuroo’s laptop he was trying to help as well.

Everyone was helping except him, he realised. But what exactly was he meant to do? He’d never had to worry about people turning into cats before. What exactly could he offer by way of help? It wasn’t like he was good at studying, or finding information online. That was the sort of thing he always needed help with. Give him a practical problem like how to strategise against another powerhouse team; leading a training session, or running for three hours a day and he was fine. Motivating people and encouraging his teammates? Perfect! But working out how to get hold of information they weren’t even supposed to really know about properly, and then doing advanced runework or even more complicated kinds of magic? Definitely not something he was any good at.

He slumped down, letting his head rest in his hands. This was stupid. Why had Kuroo even asked him for help anyway? He ought to have got Konoha or someone useful. All he’d managed to do was carry Akaashi around in a box for half an hour and take up space in Kuroo’s bedroom which would probably be better used by someone else. No wonder Akaashi was so angry. No _wonder_ he didn’t want to come out of that stupid cat carrier. This whole thing was a disaster, start to finish.

It was so hopeless, in fact, that he didn’t even realise how long he’d been sat there without moving until Kuroo reached over and poked him, an obscenely broad grin on his face. Koutarou looked up and was about to ask what the hell he was playing at _now,_  when Kuroo held a finger to his own lips and pointed to the bed with his free hand.

Koutarou turned around, and only just managed to hold back what would have been a highly embarrassing whine. Akaashi had obviously emerged from the carrier while no one was looking, and found the small patch of Kuroo’s bed on which the sunlight was still falling. He was sat in the middle of it—or rather, _lying_ in the middle of it, legs tucked underneath him and apparently fast asleep. With his eyes closed he looked a little like a puddle of black fuzz, chest slowly rising and falling.

There was no _way_ Akaashi ought to look that adorable. He… he was 182cm tall and all angles and glaring, wasn’t he? Serious and sensible and level-headed and…and curled up in a little square of sunlight looking the most peaceful Koutarou had ever seen him.

“Kuroo, we _have_ to change him back,” he said. “I can’t cope with this.”

Kuroo’s grin was broad and evil and just about as scheming as ever. “You sure about that? I mean, you seem pretty enamoured with him as a little ball of fuzz…”

“Kuro, you know that if he hears you call him that you’re going to be in even more trouble than you are already,” Kenma said. He didn’t even look up from his phone as he spoke.

“Man, we’re in such deep shit right now,” Koutarou added. “I dunno how to turn him human again so I really hope someone else has an idea.”

Kuroo frowned at his laptop. “I’ll be honest, we’re kinda stuck at the moment. All the information is tucked away behind authorisation we can’t provide. We’d need to be university students to access that level of shape-shifting spellwork by the look of it. I don’t want to think how long it’s going to take to find something trustworthy if we start hunting through random internet sites instead.”

The cocky smile slipped. “We, er…might have a bit more of a problem than I’d thought, actually.”

Koutarou gaped at him. “But he has to be a person again. You said there were sites! Like more than one! What happened?”

“Bokuto, they’re _all_ university sites, or other things you need to be a member of. You’re talking spells to change the shape of actual humans. It’s not exactly something people let loose for just anyone to find.”

“Well apparently _you_ managed, because look what you did!”

Kuroo raised his arm to point, like he was about to make some sort of smartarse comment, and then stopped with his mouth still open.

“ _Fuck_. You have a point there. Shit, I should have taken a copy of those runes I wrote down so I know what I did.” Maybe we’ve been going about this wrong. All we need to do is get someone who knows where I messed up, right? Then they can set it straight and reverse it.”

“It probably won’t be that simple,” Kenma said, looking up briefly. “But that sounds better than trying to break into a university website, or trusting a site which your browser flags as unsafe.”

“Yeah, no dodgy sites,” Koutarou said, folding his arm. “Akaashi is my very important setter, so you’re not allowed to do anything like that. We have to get him back _safely_.”

“Right,” Kuroo said. “But…well…fact is, I _didn’t_ get a copy of the runes I wrote out. So unless you know someone who’s an expert at university-level runework, I don’t think we’re gonna be able to help him tonight. You need to make that call to his family.”

Oh. Oh no. Akaashi was going to be stuck as a cat _overnight?_ Where was he going to sleep? They couldn’t exactly take him home in the carrier and tell his parents what had happened. The training camp would be shut down for sure, and Koutarou was sure that even Akaashi would hate that. Even if it meant being stuck as a cat for longer than was probably technically necessary.

“So what do I say?” he asked, glancing over at Akaashi for reassurance, and finding absolutely none because he was still a _cat_ , and that was the whole problem to begin with. Plus he was still asleep and the very tip of his tail was twitching slightly and honestly that was an image which was going to be hard to shake when Akaashi was all tall and human again, because honestly Koutarou didn’t think he’d ever seen Akaashi look so… _soft_.

“Look…you were the one who came up with this plan in the first place, so stop oggling the kitty and get it over with. Just… here. Tell them training camp ran late and you have captain stuff to do, and seeing as Akaashi is your vice, you asked him to stop over at yours so you could plan formations or something. Lots to assess after playing a new team. Just pretend Karasuno were good or something. You need to strategise how to deal with them and their little shrimp.”

“Karasuno aren’t a bad team,” Kenma remarked, looking up. “They just don’t know each other well. Shouyou and their first year setter didn’t know each other until they both started there.”

Kuroo stared over at him, arms folded and a broad grin on his face once more. “Oh, so you pay attention to _that_ , do you? Told you that little shrimpy got you hooked on the game.”

“He did not,” Kenma replied, frowning at Kuroo before turning back to his phone.

Kuroo’s grin widened. “Oh, he did.”

“He did not.”

“…He did.”

“Did—”

“Oi! You two! Cut it out, we have serious problems!” Koutarou snapped. “Come on, you gotta talk me through this! What if like, Akaashi’s mother or father pick up and they start interviewing me or something! You should call and pretend to be me Kuroo.” He stopped and held up a hand as Kuroo started to beam. “Wait. No. You’d be a really awful me: I don’t trust you. Kenma, you do it.”

“Kenma doesn’t want to,” Kuroo said. “I guarantee it.”

Kenma frowned but didn’t argue. Koutarou wondered what it must be like to have a friend like that, who knew you so well you didn’t even need to answer questions. Man, it’d be great if he could have someone like that—he could ask them to make the phone call instead of him.

“Just get it over with, Kuroo said. “Now, where did Akaashi’s phone get to?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a couple of days later than planned, but oh well. Chapter 4 will either be up later this evening or at some point tomorrow morning!


	4. Meanwhile, Akaashi... (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's rather later than I was really planning to release this, but it's the update which counts, right? I'm actually on holiday this week, so I've had a lot less time to write and edit than I usually would. This chapter brought to you by castle WiFi.

Keiji wasn’t really sure what he’d expected when Bokuto finally, tentatively picked him up, but given his usual over-exuberance it definitely hadn’t been to be treated though he were made of china and about to break. While it was infinitely preferable to Kuroo’s manhandling, it was also incredibly annoying: he was definitely _not_ fragile, and there was no need to treat him as such. Or, as was more likely Bokuto’s train of thought, as though he were a bomb about to go off.

The situation overall was likely to remain among the worst experiences of his entire life—he really couldn’t imagine topping ‘was forcibly turned into a cat’ no matter _how_ long he lived. Still, he was willing to admit that Bokuto was at least _trying_ to be helpful about it all. And he had the decency to talk to him to him as though he were still the same person, as opposed to Kuroo’s increasing tendency to act as though he’d vanished into a puff of smoke instead of having been unwillingly transfigured.

They reached the back of the gym without incident, which was definitely a blessing. There was no way Akaashi wanted anyone else to spot them, and make a connection between a black cat and the empty uniform in Bokuto’s arms upon which he was seated. Down that road lay too many unnecessary complications, and there was every chance that Kuroo would throw Bokuto under a bus if anyone asked. If someone was going to experience the fallout for illegal shapeshifting of other people, it ought to be the person who had actually _done it_.

Then again, perhaps people wouldn’t be so quick to lay the blame on Bokuto. After all, as had become very evident in the last couple of hours, if his captain and so-called friend were going to turn him into any kind of animal, it would be an _owl_.

…Blameless as Bokuto might be by comparison, Keiji was making a note of that line, and had every intention of throwing it back in his face as soon as he was actually capable of human speech again. He was still annoyed about it. He was going to continue being annoyed about it for as long as he lived.

It was good to have something to focus on being angry about, too, because even after they reached the gym Bokuto just _stood_ there, holding the pile of clothes awkwardly in front of him with Keiji perched on top. Arm muscles to the left of him, arm muscles to the right of him—

—Shit he really, _really_ needed something to distract him from what was going on because it was a scene which he did not want to be able to remember in as clear a level of detail as he knew, deep down, he always would. It was almost a relief when Kuroo arrived. _Almost_.

Whatever sort of problems Kuroo foresaw in their travelling on the train, they couldn’t possibly be as bad as the end-of-days scenario he was making it out to be. In any case, it would be rendered entirely unnecessary should they stop for half a moment and use their common sense and, say, report what had happened to a teacher, or fetch out Kuroo’s runework book from where he had hastily stowed it again in the classroom and try working backwards so that they could see where the idiot had gone wrong in the first place.

Granted, off the top of his head he couldn’t quite work out what exactly they would need to _do_ to reverse the incantation, but that…that was because he was still only a second-year, and hadn’t even studied that level of runes in the first place. And at least it would give them a direction in which to work, rather than hunting around blindly. Surely it was only common sense that you would need to start with where you went wrong to reverse a magical misdemeanour?

Honestly, their entire ‘plan’ was riddled with flaws. Leaving the school altogether and going back to someone’s _house?_ No, no that was not a good idea. Why were they leaving the school? Did they _want_ him to be stuck as a cat overnight?

Shit, what if he really did get stuck as a cat overnight? He’d…he’d have to sleep in cat form, and they _obviously_ had no intention of telling anyone responsible which would mean staying with someone else. The choices he could see being open to him involved staying with Kuroo— _the perpetrator_ , he thought sourly—or with Bokuto. Honestly that wasn’t even a choice, and it was the most mortifying and embarrassing non-choice he had been presented with in years.

“Boktuo,” he said, sighing internally as his feline mouth refused to translate the sounds properly. Perhaps he ought to just give up on attempting to speak, but it felt a lot like surrendering to do so. It wasn’t _his_ fault that someone had reshaped his entire mouth and vocal chords, rendering them incapable of human speech, and he was damned if he was going to simply accept the situation as though it were normal.

Bokuto stared at him, eyes wide and full of almost certainly ridiculous suppositions. He was being stared at as though…well, granted he _had_ been turned into something decidedly unexpected. Even so, he was entirely too close to Bokuto’s face for comfort. He definitely needed some more distance.

It was even more tortuous being lowered gingerly to the ground while Kuroo watched on, and doubly humiliating because in his haste to put distance between himself and Bokuto’s biceps he managed to fall awkwardly and not get his feet beneath him before landing on the ground.

Kuroo snorted, because that was the sort of unhelpful and decidedly not kind person he actually was, despite his many repeated claims to the contrary during the training camp.

“You know Akaashi,” he said, still grinning, “If I wasn’t already one hundred percent aware that you’re gonna kill me when you turn back, I would be enjoying this so much more.”

Oh of _course_ he was enjoying someone else’s misfortune. Mustering as much dignity as he could under the circumstances, Keiji got to his feet, and hissed at the lanky asshole in front of him who would shortly be receiving the full range of his ire. As soon as he was returned to his natural shape, that was.

He pointed to his bag, which was slung over Kuroo’s shoulder. At that moment he didn’t trust Kuroo as far as he could have thrown him. The fewer of his belongings Kuroo had contact with the better. He wouldn’t have put it past him to meddle with things and sabotage his life even more than he had already.

“Your bag?” Kuroo asked, as though there could be any doubt as to what Keiji had pointed at. He shrugged, and dumped it carelessly on the ground. “You’re not gonna be able to carry it though. I mean, you’re kind of a cat right now.”

“Well I wouldn’t be anything other than human if you weren’t the least competent person I have ever had the misfortune to meet!” Keiji snapped, finally losing the final shred of patience which he had clung to since the disaster had begun.

Keiji _lunged_ , legs miraculously cooperating beneath him and delivering him to his intended direction. If he had to be stuck as a damn cat, at least he could make the most of such weapons as had been placed at his disposal, and he refused to feel guilty because honestly Kuroo deserved worse.

“Ah _shit!_ Okay okay okay! I’m sorry! Just… _stop doing that!_ ”

Kuroo practically shrieked his protests as he backed up. It was almost as satisfying a sound as Bokuto’s immediate defence of his actions.

 _Yes, it_ is _Kuroo’s fault,_ Keiji thought. _I’m glad that someone else is acknowledging it._

The fact that the lanky middle blocker then deliberately misinterpreted Bokuto’s remark as being about the cat versus owl thing was frankly inexcusable.

“Will _someone_ take this seriously!” he yelled, noting with satisfaction that it stopped Kuroo’s nonsense in his tracks. The silence gave him an opportunity to think. Something he realised he had sorely needed.

Right. He also needed a method of communication more sophisticated than pointing, seeing as any attempt at speech could only be interpreted as animal sounds. If he could get hold of his phone—and that was definitely a good reason to have retrieved his bag from that giant _idiot_ —then perhaps he would be able to type some sort of message. He grabbed the bag between his teeth and turned it over until it was the right way up, then fiddled with the zip until he was able to hook it with a claw and pull it from one end to the other.

Of course, opening his bag was a far simpler matter than actually retrieving what he wanted. There were a great many things inside, all of which had tangled together over the course of the training camp. While he rummaged inside, the conversation above him continued. Frankly, he didn’t especially mind that…up until the point at which he head the phrase ‘pet supply store’ emerge from Kuroo’s mouth.

Oh god. There could only be one thing Kuroo was talking about if _that_ was the case.

“No,” he snapped, reversing and staring up at Kuroo. He shook his head to make sure they got the message. “NO NO _NO_.”

“I don’t think he likes that plan Kuroo,” Bokuto said, winning some points for taking his side, while simultaneously losing a few for the implication that he had in any way been unclear. “Maybe we should—”

“Look do you want to be able to go home or not?” Kuroo asked, arms folded. He leant against the wall and unfolded them again to wave his phone at them. “It says here that animals can’t just ride on the train. They have to be _in_ something, and before you empty that whole bag out Akaashi I am pretty sure that’s not what they meant.”

Keiji glared at him and, mindful of how no one could understand when he spoke any more, hissed his displeasure rather than bothering to put it into words. Did they honestly think he was emptying his bag because he wanted to skulk inside it the way Shirofuku had suggested he hide in _hers?_ That sort of thing was among the last things he wanted to try.

Frustratingly, however, he could see that Kuroo had a point. If they really were committing to their stupid plan to leave the school—and in all probability it was too late to back out of it now—the only way he would reasonably be able to reach someone’s home would be via the train. It was a long, long way from ideal, but alternatives were apparently thin on the ground, particularly as no one seemed capable of understanding him even to a lesser degree.

Right. Phone. The thing he had been attempting to retrieve before the constant interruptions.

Too annoyed with the whole situation to be patient any more, he leant forward and grabbed the base of his bag between his teeth, upending it entirely. As the contents spilled out across the path he saw his phone go sliding ahead of them, friction reduced by its case.

He leapt after it because he would prefer that the screen did _not_ get damaged. It was a practical decision made quickly, and had nothing to do with anything else. It was a rational move. Rational and practical and _successful_ , because he was able to intercept it before it bounced too far, and then brought himself up short.

 _Shit_. No, denial was pointless. While it _had_ been a rational decision, a large part of why he had leapt for the phone was because it had darted across his peripheral vision. Once he’d come to a halt it was easy to recognise what had happened. Reflexes he ought not to have possessed had kicked in, and taken over momentarily. _That_ had to stop. He was not going to allow himself to start acting in a cat-like manner just because he temporarily was a cat.

For that reason, rather than attempt to pick up the phone in his mouth (which would most likely have been easier, even with the potential danger of cracking the screen if he didn’t take enough care), he forced himself to flip it screen up with one paw. Carefully and deliberately, he pushed it across the concrete towards Bokuto, who knelt down to pick it up.

“Uhh.”

Well, clearly he had been expecting too much of his captain in hoping that he would make the connection between _Keiji’s phone_ and _Keiji’s family_ , who really deserved to know that although they still had a son, there was rather less of him than there really ought to be. It was past a joke now, and if the two idiots weren’t going to fix things, he would have to find someone else who could.

“Akaashi, whoever you want Bokuto to ring, it can wait. I don’t fancy our chances if we start making calls about it while we’re still on school grounds. Let’s just…look, just suck it up and get in a box. It’s only a few stops on the train. You can hide in your schoolbag on the way to the pet supply store if you want, but honestly? I don’t see any other way of doing this.”

Keiji glowered at him. It was all very well for _Kuroo_ to say that, considering he wasn’t the one who would have to be packed into a box like some sort of cargo. And why were they so insistent on leaving the school when they still had no record of the mistake Kuroo had actually made? He could almost understand the plan to reverse the incantation at Kuroo’s house, but surely it was obvious that they would need a copy of the original to be able to do so?

“Akaashi I’m pretty sure we’re gonna have to do some more magic to get you back to normal,” Bokuto said, with an oddly serious expression on his face. “And we can’t do that here. Maybe you can pick the box, if that helps?”

 _Pick the box?_ Keiji thought, furious. _Why would I want to pick a damn box! I want to be human again, not discussing feline transportation!_

Still. It wasn’t _Bokuto_ who had turned him into a cat. He might have been a bit simple-minded at times, but he wasn’t actually stupid. And at least if he was sticking around Keiji wouldn’t be left entirely in Kuroo’s incapable hands, so it was probably worth at least attempting to show a little willing. Grudgingly, he also had to admit that Bokuto had a point about not being able to easily do deliberate magic at the school.

He very deliberately did _not_ think about the soft, almost pleading expression Bokuto had had on his face as he’d tried to convince Keiji to go along with their plan. He was still annoyed. He was still angry. Bokuto would almost certainly have been quite happy if he’d been turned into a damn owl, so…

Kuroo cleared his throat, looking down at him with a would-be benevolent expression. “Look, the sooner we can all get safely to my place, the sooner we can get this whole mess sorted out, right? It’s my mistake, I’ll buy the damn box. Least I can do.”

Oh so he was supposed to be happy about that? _Grateful?_

“You _ass!_ ” he hissed, lunging for Kuroo. Lock him up in a box, would he? If he was going to treat the whole thing as some sort of joke—and he’d seen the easy, laidback grin on the other teenager’s face, so there was no sense in anyone pretending Kuroo wasn’t enjoying this on some level—then he could damn well face the consequences.

“So I’m a cat, am I?” he muttered, reaching out with his claws. Kuroo yelped and backed up some more, spared from injury only because Keiji was still working out how to simultaneously run _and_ reach out with clawed paws. _Well you did this so you can face the consequences for a change!_

Somewhere a short distance away Bokuto was laughing hysterically, and Keiji resolved to have a serious, stern conversation with him later when this had all blown over. For the moment all he particularly cared about was snatching hold of the legs which kept backing up and around out of his reach, because it was past time that Kuroo suffered a little for his crimes.

Kozume arrived on the scene with little fanfare, but a profound effect. Keiji didn’t especially hear what he said to Kuroo, but it was enough to bring the lanky captain up short, stopping suddenly enough that had Keiji not been focusing he might have crashed into him. As it was, he saw the opportunity and took it, getting in one good scratch down the long, _annoying_ shin in front of him before backing up and wrestling his unfamiliar body into as comfortable a sitting position as he could manage.

He stared up at Kozume, who at least had the decency to look at him as though he weren’t either a creature to be pitied or ‘too adorable’, and then over to Kuroo. The transformation was actually quite marvellous. The cocky, overconfident expression was gone, and Kuroo actually bowed, keeping his head down as he mumbled a sullen apology to him.

Still, half-hearted or not, Keiji conceded that he probably ought to take the moral high ground and at least _appear_ to accept it. If he didn’t, it might be harder to get any more in future, and the longer this entire extended charade went on, the more he was starting to acknowledge to himself that he was entirely reliant upon these idiots to change him back.

Because realistically, how would he change himself back otherwise?

It was an uncomfortable thought, and it was definitely not helped by Bokuto’s remark about what people would think when they looked at him, which followed a few seconds later. After all, what _would_ anyone else see? Certainly not a capable teenager brought low by misfortune and the idiocy of others. They’d see just what Bokuto had said: a cat.

Could Bokuto not see that this was the last sort of reminder he needed at that particular moment? He’d managed to be surprisingly tactful up until this point—for Bokuto, at least—only to break that admirable streak at the worst possible time. He glared up at his supposed teammate, not even relenting as the idiot backed up, stuttering apologies. Whose side was he on in all this, exactly?

“No wait, that’s not what I meant! I’m sorry Akaashi, please don’t attack me!” Bokuto said, practically tripping over the words in his haste to get them out.

“You’re all hopeless,” Kozume said, sighing. Keiji turned to glare at him instead. “Are you just going to stand there all day until someone comes along and catches you?”

Ah, yes. Kozume actually had a brain he was capable of using, and unlike Keiji, was not continually being provoked and traumatised so he had the detachment to actually _think_.

It was a little irritating to feel that he had been included in what was effectively a scolding, but he had to concede that the other setter had a point. Seeing as there was evidently no way he was going to be able to inform any of them that they needed to take a copy of the inscription Kuroo had so royally screwed up, there really wasn’t any benefit to staying at the school. It was equally evident that all those involved who still had the advantages of human-shape were too invested in preserving their reputations to actually inform a teacher of what had happened.

“Akaashi should climb in someone’s bag for now,” Kozume went on, and Keiji was about to interrupt and very emphatically protest that when the comment about Nekoma’s gangly first year pulled him up sharply. There was absolutely, categorically _no way_ he wanted to have any kind of involvement with _that_ particular idiot. He’d seen enough of Lev during the extra training sessions, and the impression he’d formed of him was one of even more unbridled enthusiasm than Bokuto. If the first year also had an unnecessary fondness for cats he would even put up with an extended stay on the inside of a canvas bag to escape safely. Shirofuku had been bad enough.

He still hissed at all three of them before actually climbing into his sports bag and allowing Bokuto to close it almost all the way and then sling it over his shoulder. It was the principle of the thing. He didn’t want any of them thinking for one minute that he was actually _happy_ with any of what was happening.

 

* * *

 

The next period of time—it was impossible to judge how long it lasted from the inside of a bag with no context other than the slightly muffled conversation he could hear and the constant jostling which set his nerves jangling on edge—was among the worst experiences of Keiji’s entire traumatic afternoon.

Bokuto had only put a few things back into Keiji’s bag before holding it open for him to climb inside—his practice kit, which he’d laid in the bottom for Keiji to sit on saying that it would probably be more comfortable that way.

Oddly thoughtful the gesture might have been, but it had backfired in that as soon as they began walking along, the dratted clothes refused to stay put, and bunched up to one side, threatening to fall on top of Keiji unless he braced himself carefully against Bokuto’s back.

Bokuto was _warm_. A portable furnace, more like a heated wall which shifted and changed shape as Bokuto walked and moved his arms. The air was stuffy and half-stifling despite the small gap which had been left unzipped, and now and then the other bag which Bokuto carried—his own, which had been overstuffed with the rest of Keiji’s belongings—swung into him, buffeting him hard enough that he was almost crushed between the sides of the bag and the warmth of Bokuto's back.

But that was good. Sort of. Well, no, actually it was a generally miserable experience, but the severe discomfort at least allowed him to ignore the fact that there was a corner of his mind full of unwanted and definitely intrusive reflexes which found the body heat far too comfortable for his personal liking.

He was not a cat. He was a person, and people did not…they didn’t snuggle up to other people just because they were warm. It wasn’t even _cold_ , for crying out loud. It was the middle of summer and there was absolutely no need for him to be seeking out heat sources just for some physical comfort.

So concerned was he with the internal dilemma that it took him a while to realise they had actually reached the pet supply store, and Bokuto had shifted the bag so that it sat more on his shoulder than across his back.

“Hey,” came Bokuto’s voice, loud even at a whisper. “What do you think Akaashi?”

Keiji clawed his way up the sides of the bag to peek out of the opening at the top. Oh, _god_. It was even worse than he’d feared. Not a single one of the cat carriers looked an inviting place to spend any of his time. If anyone else ever found out about this he would have to actually hunt them down and murder them. Perhaps it would be better if he just disappeared into thin air.

“I mean, it won’t be for long, right?” Bokuto went on, entirely oblivious to the despair Keiji was experiencing. “Kuroo said his place is just a few stops on the train, and you can get out straight away after that.”

Keiji sank back down into his bag, refusing to look at his future prison any longer than was necessary.

“I don’t care,” he muttered, resigned to the toneless, senseless noise which emerged instead. “This whole thing is the most degrading experience of my life, so each of the options is equally awful.”

Bokuto didn’t say anything else after that. Keiji didn’t want to listen even if he had. He’d seen his future and it involved a plastic box with a lockable door, and there was no coming back from that. No matter what happened, Kuroo would be lording this over him for the rest of eternity, like the complete pain in the ass he had always been. Even though it was entirely his doing to begin with. He was probably planning on buying the most humiliating, _awful_ thing which the store had available, purely to make his existence more miserable.

The bag moved around again and he curled up in the bottom of it, pressing his paws over his ears and imagining, for a moment, that the bag would just split open and allow him to escape. Supposing he ran off and disappeared. Would life as an _actual_ cat be that much worse than returning to human form and having to face the people who had done this to him?

Well, yes, on balance it would. What he  _really_ wanted was to close his eyes and wake up to find that there was a solution, and he could have his real body back. A body he knew and understood, and which was capable of communicating, and walking, and actually holding things. He wanted his hands back. His legs back, to be able to walk around and not be jammed into a small bag and then informed that a cat carrier was somehow an _improvement_ , simply because it had a solid frame and was permitted on trains.

For that matter, he would have been happy enough to pay for a train ticket again, as opposed to being essentially luggage which could breathe.

And the cat carrier which he was presented with a few minutes later was the most plain, unappealing prison Keiji could have imagined. A fraction less humiliating than the bright pink monstrosity he had glimpsed in the store—which he had halfway expected Kuroo to buy out of spite—but not by much. Still, it hardly looked a comfortable prison in which to be trapped for the duration of their train journey.

The fact that it was clearly the cheapest carrier the store had possessed was not lost on Keiji. Nor was Kuroo’s protest that it was the only one that he could afford, seeing as the others would have ‘bankrupted’ him.

“Don’t give me that evil look,” Kuroo might have protested, but he deserved it. Even more so after his followup remark that Keiji didn’t need something fancy for such a short journey.

 _I wouldn’t have to get inside that wretched cat carrier at all if you hadn’t been so completely useless,_ he thought, staring at it with considerable distaste.

He didn’t want to get inside. Going inside a cat carrier was like conceding defeat, but there really weren’t any alternatives, and he begrudgingly admitted that at least inside a solid carrier he would be able to breathe and hopefully think clearly. It was even _more_ humiliating to imagine being stuck in his sports bag, crushed between Bokuto, the other sports bag, and the other commuters on the train.

Sighing, gritting his teeth as far as he was actually capable of doing so in cat-form, he dragged himself inside and turned around. Kozume’s offer of blackmail was nice, but it was only going to pay off if someone got their act together and returned him to the ranks of recognised humanity, and it didn’t change the fact he was sat inside a cat carrier at that particular moment. Because—and he was going to continue feeling bitter about this—he was a _cat_.

Still, that much wasn’t Kozume’s fault, and at least he was acting relatively level-headed about the whole thing. He nodded his thanks and pulled the door more or less closed, then shuffled as far into the carrier as was possible. Maybe he could somehow pretend he didn’t exist for the next half an hour or so. Maybe if he closed his eyes he would wake up and none of this _would_ exist. Perhaps he’d actually just fallen and given himself a concussion, and everything was just some sort of nightmare hallucination.

Bokuto was altogether too cheerful in announcing that they ought to set off, but then again Keiji probably shouldn’t have expected anything else. After all, he _wasn’t_ a cat.

“Just get it over with,” he said, for all the good it did him.

“You have to fasten the door,” came Kuroo’s voice. “It’s gonna swing open otherwise.”

Oh that was _it_. Screw dignity, the first chance he got he was going to _bite_ Kuroo. He—

“I’m not locking him inside!” Bokuto snapped, the voice of his actual saviour. “I...look, I’ll wedge his practice vest in there and that’ll stop it swinging open on its own but he’s still a _person_ , Kuroo. I’m not locking him in a box just because you’re the worst person at runes in the whole world.”

Keiji barked out the most horrific laugh in the world thanks to his current vocal limitations. He even heard Kenma snort. Damn. He really ought to give Bokuto some more credit, because that was easily the third or fourth time that day he’d taken Keiji’s side without even being prompted. And burning Kuroo at the same time, too. Honestly he would quite happily have…have _hugged_ Bokuto then and there, were it not for his aforementioned cat status. Yes. Definitely hugged.

Kuroo didn’t sound all that happy at the retort and its fallout, but honestly he had it coming. Keiji was going to treasure that little comment the entire, painful time he was tucked away from the world in a box.

 

* * *

 

It was less bad than he had feared, at first. The carrier, much as it pained him to admit it, _was_ more comfortable than his sports bag. And with the practice vest holding the door closed, it felt small and snug, which was apparently reassuring to the gathering of additional reflexes which had begun to make their presence known. With a cat’s heightened senses—he had _whiskers_ , and good grief was it disorienting to be able to feel things which all reason and logic told him were several centimetres from his face—the rigid, opaque edges of the carrier were like a safe haven.

Even the movement as Bokuto walked around with the carrier wasn’t so bad. From what he could see, Bokuto was holding the carrier in front of him, both arms wrapped around it. Most of the wire mesh ‘door’ was obscured by bicep. Keiji made sure to tuck his head under one arm…or under one of his front legs at least, and close his eyes. It would pass.

It wouldn’t pass quickly enough. The others were being quieter as they walked along, allowing him the peace and quiet to imagine the world outside had faded away. That the odd sensation of his body being wrong was just a strange dream. That when he opened his eyes he would be back at home, or still waking up that morning, or really, _any_ other option than the actual reality.

The wishes redoubled after they reached the station and people began to peer inside the carrier at him.

Bokuto had set it down carefully on the station platform, apparently having decided that he would be better off there at his feet than suspended in the air, and Keiji had been thankful up until people had started staring. Was it the first time a cat had ever been on a station platform, for crying out loud?

 _That_ was bad enough, but then there was the little girl. The little girl who peered in, fingers already pressing through the bars, and stared up at wherever Bokuto’s face was, asking if she could _pet him._

 _No you absolutely cannot,_ he thought fiercely, forgetting pride for a moment to silently beg Bokuto to come to his aid. _I don’t dislike small children but I absolutely will maim you if that is what it takes to get you to leave me alone._

But Bokuto had apparently panicked, because the response that he gave was…although effective, entirely uncalled for.

 _Especially_ seeing as it resulted in Kuroo laughing so hard that he sounded like he was choking. Keiji hoped he _had_ choked and that it hurt, because frankly, he deserved it.

Placing both paws over his too-sensitive ears to attempt to drown out Bokuto’s frantic backpedalling, he closed his eyes and wished himself a hundred miles away. Oh, and human again. Why had he ever thought it would be worthwhile helping Kuroo anyway?

 

* * *

 

He had the uncomfortable sensation of having slept. Cats seemed very prone to nodding off if left to their own devices in a confined space, and it was a trifle alarming to realise that he was doing it himself. He was _not_ a cat. He was a person—Akaashi Keiji, vice-captain and setter of Fukurodani volleyball team— and there was absolutely no way that he was going to lose sight of that fact just because he had gotten his species temporarily mislaid.

He opened his eyes wide to prove it to himself, and then looked around the cat carrier, noting that they had left the train and were walking down a path.

“So, my parents probably won’t like the thought of me bringing animals home, and I’m obviously not about to tell them what really happened—”

“Oh well I am _so sorry_ to inconvenience you!” Akaashi cried, furious. So that was what had woken him? Kuroo being his usual inconsiderate self? Even worse, no one stopped to even acknowledge him. He was not an animal, in any sense other than the technicality of his appearance.

He was so angry that he couldn’t even focus on the witless banter between Kuroo and Kozume, and lost track of what was going on until they were inside a building and the cat carrier was laid down on a mattress. He’d only half registered Bokuto pulling the practice vest away and allowing the door to swing freely, and gazed blankly at the opening for a while.

“Just leave him be,” came Kozume’s voice from somewhere nearby. “He’s probably sick of everyone staring at him.”

Keiji obviously needed to spend more time with Kozume, because here, at last, was someone who appeared to actually have a decent understanding of the situation. There was _no way_ he wanted to walk out of the cat carrier and look up to see that he had an audience.

Still, he didn’t especially want to stay in the cat carrier any longer than was strictly necessary, either. Away from the crowds and bustle of the train station, there was less to tax his senses, and the rest he’d gotten on the train had helped him gain a little bit better sense of his current shape.

After a few minutes, once the argument between his three would-be helpers had settled down into quiet, he risked venturing to the entrance of the carrier. Kuroo’s bedroom was neater than he had been expecting, although there were piles of clutter here and there.

At any rate, it wasn’t the scruffy, unpleasant environment which he had feared finding himself in, and there was certainly nothing to put him off walking out across the bed. Kuroo looked up briefly as he emerged, but apparently whatever he and Kozume were doing together with the laptop and phone was enough to keep him occupied, because he looked down again without a comment.

Keiji looked around more closely. The room was well-lit but in a cosy fashion rather than a bright, spartan one. If he’d been human sized he might have found it cramped, possibly, but as a cat even the excess of teenage boys who were currently occupying the floor weren’t enough to make it feel claustrophobic.

He walked up and down the bed, taking in his surroundings before gravitating back to a warmer patch in the centre. In an unfamiliar environment, surely it was only natural to seek out physical comfort, and the warm square of sunlight promised that. It was easier to sit on the soft duvet than it had been the chair under the desk in the classroom, and Keiji didn’t bother worrying about the extra appendage he had gained in his tail before sitting down. It wasn’t staying, so there was no point working out which muscles controlled it, or trying to master them.

From his position, he could see the other three. Kuroo and Kozume were engrossed in their task, but Bokuto was sitting with his lower back resting against the bed, slumped forward over raised knees. Sulking? Keiji hadn’t especially been following the argument they’d had, too busy feeling fed up with the entire situation he found himself in.

It could wait, he told himself. It would have to. For now, there was nothing to be done until Kuroo found whatever solution it was that he and Kozume were looking for. With any luck it wouldn’t take long, but until that time he might as well rest up. If turning back into a human were any bit as exhausting as being turned into a cat, he would need all the rest he could get.

His eyes drifted closed. He’d let them for just a minute or two. Just a short nap and then he’d get back to following what was going on and see if he could speed things along in any fashion. There was no need to let things spiral out of control. He could handle a little longer like this, now that the worst was over and he’d survived the train journey. Frankly, he wasn’t sure that anything could ‘top’ the shame of being the target of all the small children and old ladies on a train.

Later, he would deny how good it felt to doze there, curled up in the warm sunlight. It wasn’t as though anything about the whole mess were actually _enjoyable_ , after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Yeah this chapter really wasn't meant to be as long as it turned out. Oops. 
> 
> The next updates will probably come sometime this weekend, and _hopefully_ will be on the same or successive days the way this and chapter three were intended. I'll be home again by that point at least. We'll see.


	5. in which Things Go From Bad To Worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, I return! Real Live Stress managed to get the better of my posting schedule, but I finally managed to get the mental space I needed to sort this out (seriously, I finished writing it over 2 weeks ago now, I'm Stressed™). Chapter 6 hopefully up soon, but I have a sickly child home from school this week so who really knows. This is my official heads up that until New Year, all my updating plans are very tentative.
> 
> I hope this ridiculousness makes up for the wait!

It took a considerable amount of trial and error to unlock Akaashi’s phone. The fingerprint reader obviously didn’t work, and they had to wake him up and explain the plan before they could get him to tell the PIN—which he could only even  _ do  _ after Kuroo wrote out all the numbers on a piece of paper and got him to point at each of them in turn, growling in the back of his throat at Kuroo the whole time. 

Then he tried to offer advice for Koutarou as to what to actually say, but getting words across was a lot harder than numbers. There were way too many to just write them all out the way they’d done with the mock keypad. Instead, Kuroo wrote a few basic words on the other side of the number sheet and they attempted to narrow it all down by the most complicated and stupid game of charades Koutarou had ever heard of. It definitely wasn’t a variation which would catch on at parties.

By the time Koutarou sat there listening to the phone ring, he’d worked himself into a state of near panic. Kuroo had helpfully written a couple of flash cards for him, but in all honesty he wasn’t sure if that would help or just make him sound more wooden and fake when he was talking.

The three pairs of eyes watching him as the phone rang on didn’t help. Especially seeing as Akaashi’s were the wrong shape, and he had to  _ not  _ mention that fact whenever someone actually decided to pick up and listen to what he had to say. When a youngish girl finally answered the phone, it was all he could do not to just blurt out “Akaashi’s a cat!” then and there.

“Uhhh…” he said instead, mind going helpfully blank as he set it to speakerphone. Kuroo waved the first placard in the air, then poked him in the thigh with the corner of it. The words on it:  _ “Hello, I’m Bokuto Koutarou, captain of the volleyball team” _ flashed across his vision. 

“Can I help you?” the girl said, sounding doubtful.

“Uhhh…” he said again. The pre-arranged script might as well not have existed in his sudden panic. Why was a little girl on the phone? “I just called to say Akaashi…I mean Akaashi  _ Keiji  _ won’t go home today because he’s staying at my house. Because he’s the vice-captain of the team, and I’m the captain, I mean. And we have captain stuff to do.”

“He never mentioned that,” the girl said, and good  _ grief  _ a child’s voice had absolutely no right sounding so clever and so similar to Akaashi’s. Although he supposed that the girl had actually introduced herself as an Akaashi too. Perhaps they were all like that?

Kuroo poked him with the card again. Shit, yes. Talking. The words bubbled up in a panic:

“Um, that’s because it just came up today! There was this new team you see, and they were awful…to play against, I mean. So we have to do strategies and stuff and anyway that’s why he won’t be home today so can you pass on the message?” He winced. Kuroo was already rolling his eyes, and Akaashi had buried his head under his front paws. Why was it so hard talking to a little girl all of a sudden? He never had trouble talking to anyone!

“Oh  _ sure _ ,” the girl replied coldly. “You know, if Keiji really wanted to stay out overnight he’d just send a message to let us know what was going on. He’d  _ never  _ let someone else phone for him.”

“Riight,” Koutarou said uncertainly. “Well, he, uh…really wanted to get the message to you but…um…”

Kuroo flipped through the cue cards one more time, then held them up and shrugged. They had definitely not planned for that particular eventuality. Since when were people so suspicious?

“Okay, so just tell me where my brother is and why he  _ really  _ isn’t coming home tonight. Or I could always wait for my parents to come home and then tell them both that the captain of the volleyball team called and he sounds  _ very shifty. _ ”

Koutarou gaped a moment. What the hell? Who  _ was  _ this kid?

Kuroo gestured for the phone, but Koutarou shook his head. There was no way he wanted to risk Kuroo doing something stupid.

“We…uh…Akaashi has a bit of a problem at the moment that we’re helping him with,” Koutarou said, looking nervously over at Akaashi as he spoke. He’d stood by the sheet of paper and was frantically pointing at two of the words, which was great because they’d actually found a way of sort of communicating, but bad because at the angle he was looking from, he couldn’t actually read what had been written there. 

“Give me the phone,” Kuroo muttered, holding out his hand, but Koutarou shook his head. Surely the last thing they needed was for him to wind this little evil genius girl up even more, and winding people up was practically Kuroo’s only skill.

“Oh so there  _ are  _ more of you there. More volleyball team members? Look, just put Keiji on the phone and  _ he  _ can tell me what’s going on.”

“He can’t!” Koutarou blurted out, wincing even as he said it.

Kuroo snatched the phone away and hung up. “What, are you  _ trying  _ to sound incredibly shady? All you had to do was tell her he was helping you with homework and it was gonna run late so you offered, and by the way he’s…I dunno, taking a really long shower so you figured you’d get the call out of the way. Job done.”

Koutarou frowned. “But Akaashi’s always really quick in the shower at training camps,” he muttered.

A nudge against his leg made him flinch, and he looked down to see Akaashi holding the piece of paper in his mouth. He laid it down in front of Koutarou and spread it out with his front paws, then pointed to two words.

“Talk cat? I don’t get it. No one here talks cat, Akaashi, that’s the whole problem.”

“He means talk  _ about  _ being a cat,” Kuroo said, rolling his eyes like it was obvious or something. “Gotta be. Like, tell or don’t tell someone what happened. So we should tell—”

The phone rang, neatly cutting him off in the middle of his sentence, and Kuroo swore when he saw who was calling. 

“Akaashi it’s your demon sister again. I…shit, hold on.”

“Don’t call her that!” Koutarou hissed, wincing as he realised that Kuroo had already answered. 

“Captain-san?” came the girl’s voice. “Wait. That’s not the voice from before. Whoever you are, please give my brother his phone back. There’s no way he’d give permission for you to do this, so you can be sure I’m going to tell him that you took it—”

To Koutarou’s surprise it was Akaashi who cut her off, with a short, abrupt—but  _ distinctive  _ miaow. 

“Ah, you finally did it!” he crowed, wincing again at the glare Akaashi shot his way. Right. Not the point.

“What’s going on?” Akaashi’s sister said, sounding even more annoyed than she’d been before. “Look this isn’t…”

“Kid, listen,” Kuroo said. “Believe it or not, we’re telling the truth here.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly we weren’t going to tell you exactly what’s going on, but apparently your brother would prefer we did.”

“Of course he would, he—”

“Is a cat.”

Silence. Koutarou gaped. How the hell was Kuroo  _ smiling  _ through all this? How the hell had he just sat there and said it so calmly? This was serious! It was big, bad, enormously serious news, and he’d said it like he was a  _ joke _ . Hell, even Akaashi looked completely stumped, and Koutarou had never seen that happen before either. 

“What do you mean he’s a cat. That’s a stupid metaphor. He’s nothing like one.”

Koutarou cleared his throat. “He means he turned Akaashi  _ into  _ a cat,” he said, because that was a detail he wanted to make  _ very  _ clear if they were going to be talking about this honestly. He knew perfectly well what people thought of him, and given the choice between himself and Kuroo, he also knew who everyone would assume was at fault if the truth ever came out. “Because he did. He…er…turned your brother into a cat. It was by mistake though, not on purpose or anything.”

“Oh, you are  _ not  _ serious.”

Akaashi yowled, hackles actually raising. Wow, apparently he was getting a lot better at some stuff. Or maybe it was like instincts? 

“Now you’ve got canned sounds? Stop messing around and put my brother’s phone back in his bag. This sort of thing is really childish and immature.”

“No!” Koutarou cried. “No it’s really true! That’s not…that’s  _ him! _ He told us to tell you because honestly we were gonna say he was helping me with…stuff.”

The girl huffed down the phone. “…I’m going to need some sort of proof,” she said at last. 

Akaashi shook his head, narrowing his eyes. He lifted a paw to point at each of them in turn and in the most awkward fashion possible, drew the paw across his throat. 

Kuroo snorted. “Yeah he says no. Or rather, he’s making it very clear that he’s gonna be extremely annoyed if we do that. Honestly he’s pretty pissed off about the whole thing.” 

Kenma reached over and smacked his shoulder, and Koutarou had to bite back a laugh. For a moment Kuroo looked just as offended as Akaashi did.

“ _ Ow!  _ I…sorry. Look, we’re gonna turn him back, it’s just…proving a little more difficult than expected. If it’s any consolation he’s lost none of his usual charm.”

Akaashi had apparently gotten tired of Kuroo’s handling of the whole phone situation because he picked that moment to unleash his claws again, scratching at Kuroo’s thighs this time. Kuroo let out a strangled screech and dropped the phone as he lurched away, cursing.

“God  _ damn  _ it Akaashi, stop  _ doing that! _ ”

“What’s going on?”

Koutarou let out a short bark of laughter, almost toppling over, before getting himself under control enough to say: “Your brother got annoyed and went for Kuroo again. He, er…doesn’t really like Kuroo very much at the moment.” 

There was another silence. 

“Oh my god, you’re actually telling the truth aren’t you.”

Akaashi hissed at the phone.

“You turned my brother into a cat.”

“If it’s any consolation it was a  _ complete  _ accident,” Kuroo said, fending Akaashi off as he spoke. “As soon as we get him human again he can back me up, because it was all just an honest mistake which could have happened to literally anyone—ack, _ no! _ Jesus Akaashi when did you get this violent?”

There was a short silence. Koutarou held his breath. What was the girl going to  _ do? _ It sounded like she actually believed them, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. They hadn’t really planned on anyone in Akaashi’s family finding out, after all. 

“I’m gonna want some sort of proof about this. Send me a picture or something. You can leave any details which incriminate yourself out of it if you want but I want to see what you did to him, and none of that nonsense about it being blurry because he moved.”

Bokuto gaped at the phone. What the hell kind of child  _ was  _ this? Even Akaashi had turned to stare at the phone with his eyes wider and his mouth open. On a cat the expression looked  _ really  _ weird. 

There was a short silence before Kuroo laughed. “So basically you want blackmail material, right? Well, I dunno how lasting it’s going to be, because he’s  _ literally  _ a cat—nothing human-looking about him to prove it’s him. But I can help you out there so long as your brother cooperates. Which I’m sure he will, because the alternative is that you tell your parents, correct?”

“Well you’re not completely stupid I guess, volleyball-san. Yes. I want pictures, and then I’ll happily tell our parents that Keiji is having a study date with his fellow athletes because they desperately need his help so that they don’t fail all their tests.”

Wow. Koutarou had never factored in that, of his family, Akaashi might actually be the  _ nice  _ one. No wonder he was so strict and stern with him when he was used to dealing with some kind of evil genius for a little sister. It was probably the only way he had survived.

There was a flash from behind them, and they all turned to stare at Kenma, who was watching impassively with his phone held up. 

“Tell me the number and I’ll send it,” he said, frowning. “Then we can stop all this messing around. You’re all being too loud.”

“Wait hold on a second Kenma,” Kuroo said. “Who did you get in that photo?”

Kenma stared at him levelly. “Everyone who needed to be,” he said, voice just as monotonous as it always was. Damn, what  _ was  _ it with setters and their weird emotional problems? Were there actually any normal ones out there?

Akaashi had slumped back down onto the bed by the time he looked back, and Kuroo was wrapping things up fast with the younger and somehow eviler Akaashi on the other end of the phone. 

“You should head off soon,” Kuroo said after hanging up. “Not that I don’t love your company, but the train will be packed if you leave it much later, and I really don’t fancy explaining to my parents why there’s a cat in my room.”

Akaashi sat up and yowled angrily at him and honestly Bokuto didn’t blame him. After all, it  _ was  _ all Kuroo’s fault, and if anyone had to explain what was going on it ought to be him. But still, he also kind of had a point. If they left it much later the train would be completely packed with commuting salarymen and Akaashi would probably hate that even more than just being in the cat carrier  _ normally _ . 

“I guess if we can’t do anything for tonight we might as well get back to the right district,” Koutarou said, shrugging. “We gotta go at some point unless you want to stay here tonight Akaashi, and I’m getting pretty hungry, so…Wait. What’s Akaashi gonna  _ eat? _ ”

For an answer, Akaashi grabbed the sheet of paper and tapped a blank corner of it insistently. 

“Nothing? But you gotta eat  _ something  _ Akaashi, you can’t just starve.”

Well, if nothing else the, the following few moments confirmed that Akaashi was definitely getting used to being a cat. There was no way he would have been able to trace out the characters for words a couple of hours beforehand. Unfortunately, it really wasn’t easy to make out what he was attempting to write, because he had cat paws instead of fingers, and he wasn’t quite as accurate as he probably would have been if he’d still been human.

“Okay okay, slow down,” Kuroo said, waving at him. “I think I have some paint somewhere. You can dip a claw in it or something and actually write to us, yeah? It’s got to be easier than all this charades nonsense.”

Akaashi nodded slowly, and watched Kuroo with narrowed eyes as he ran out of the room.

“He’s actually very sorry, you know,” Kenma said, looking up from his game. “He probably doesn’t really look it but he is.”

Koutarou nodded. “We’re gonna get you human again soon Akaashi, too. It’ll all be over and we’ll go back to normal.”

Akaashi’s eyes narrowed but he sat down on the bed, tail flickering only a small amount. He nodded at them and then sank forward so that he was more lying down than sitting. 

It was really all Koutarou could do not to reach out and just… _ no _ . No this was absolutely not a cat, this was  _ Akaashi _ , and however small and fuzzy he might be at that moment he really, really would not appreciate being poked any more than he had already. It didn’t matter that he really, really wanted to give him a hug or try  _ anything  _ to cheer him up—because he really was looking pretty miserable about the whole thing and who could actually blame him? But if he actually attempted to do so, he knew it would have more or less the opposite effect than the one he’d intended. 

Kuroo was only gone a few minutes, but they were enough to make a really long and awkward silence because Kenma was playing some kind of game on his phone, and Akaashi was refusing to move from where he’d laid down on Kuroo’s bed—in the sunlight again, Koutarou noticed. Had Akaashi noticed that, or was it just an accident? 

“Okay I’m back,” Kuroo announced, brandishing a small pot. “Poster paint is going to have to do. I got a bowl of water so you can wash the rest off when you’re done. It’s probably not ideal, but it’ll have to do for now because we really don’t have any alternative.”

Akaashi perked up, nodding and walking across the bed to the side closest to Kuroo. He jumped down from the bed to where the pot of poster paint had been set on the floor, and sat down beside it, lifting up a paw. The claws came out. The claws went back in. The process repeated a couple of times. Akaashi hissed with evident frustration. 

“Okay so maybe this isn’t going to be such a good idea,” Kuroo said, watching as Akaashi very clearly wrestled with his paw to get it to do whatever he was actually trying to do. His voice was considerably softer than it had been on the phone as he added: “Look, don’t hurt yourself, we can think of something else.”

Akaashi shook his head, and Koutarou leant closer. He watched as the claws came out once more, and Akaashi dipped them into the pot of poster paint, then reached over to the paper and—

It ripped. Rather than whatever line Akaashi had been trying to draw, his claw went right through the paper, tearing it up behind him and spreading paint on either side. 

“Ahh, shit,” Kuroo said. “Well, it was a nice try I guess. Bokuto, I think you’re just gonna have to go by trial and error, but I’d probably start with real food if I were you. I don’t exactly think he’s gonna want to eat something weird.”

“We should go, then,” Koutarou said. “It’s getting later, and the sooner we get the train bit done the better I guess. There’s just gonna be more and more people there from now on, and it won’t be a quick trip like it was getting here.”

Akaashi didn’t put up so much of a fuss about going in the cat carrier again, which, actually, kinda seemed wrong. It was like the fight was going out of him, and that had to be bad, didn’t it? Akaashi was always really stubborn and never normally let other people boss him around—he’d even managed to find a way to be on an equal level with the other third years on the team by being made vice-captain in his second year—and there he was just getting into a cat carrier he had clawed Kuroo for suggesting just a couple of hours earlier? What if he was getting too dejected about the whole thing?

Whatever was wrong though, he would have to wait for Akaashi to be human again before he could find out what it was. And they had to do that soon anyway, because they had school and practice, and nationals were coming up soon and they wouldn’t be any good as a team without their setter.

* * *

 

Somehow, it was even  _ more  _ awkward and stressful taking Akaashi on the train by himself than it had been with Kuroo and Kenma. It shouldn’t have been—three teenagers in sports gear travelling with a cat was a far more potentially suspicious image than just the one. On his own, there could be any number of reasons for his unusual appearance. But also, on his own there was no one else to distract him from the odd or interested looks he kept getting. It wasn’t as though he could talk to  _ Akaashi  _ about it. Not without looking even weirder than he did already.

He tried it anyway, simply because it was a really long train journey, stopping at every station even though it was late enough that hardly anyone wanted to get on. He didn’t often catch the train, and this was a pretty good reminder why.

“Hey, do you think we’re gonna have to come back to Kuroo’s house?” he asked, keeping his voice to a whisper in order to draw less attention. The lady sitting across from him had heard though. He could tell by the way she smiled at them like she’d just won a prize. Urgh. Cat lovers were the  _ worst _ . 

Akaashi didn’t even answer. He just sat there, tucked at the back of the carrier looking completely miserable and somehow very annoyed at the same time. It was oddly comforting though. All the while Akaashi was angry at everything—hopefully mostly at Kuroo—he  _ had  _ to be alright.

The lady beamed at him when he sat up again. Koutarou sank lower on his seat.  _ Great _ , now he looked like the sort of person who talked to cats like he loved them or something. Well, that was just perfect, wasn’t it. 

“Man Kuroo really messed up,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I can kinda see why you’re so angry Akaashi. This is all just too many kinds of a disaster for me to even keep track.”

Akaashi’s only response was a low grumbling sort of sound.

“We’re gonna thrash Nekoma next time we play them though, right? Those damn cats have it com—I mean…Sorry Akaashi, no offence!”

 

* * *

 

It had been a long time since Koutarou had taken such a long trip on the train, and without Kuroo there to talk to it was simultaneously boring and horrendously nerve-wracking. Everyone who entered the carriage stared over at him and the carrier as though they’d never seen a teenager with a cat before, and the overall effect of the attention was to leave him practically forced to keep staring out of the window at the passing city to stop glaring at them all.

It wasn’t a whole lot better once he left the train and switched to walking. Partly because people still stared at him, but mostly because it was actually really awkward holding the carrier. Why couldn’t people design the things so that they didn’t smack into the legs of whoever got stuck lugging them around? 

Carrying Akaashi was awkward enough that Koutarou didn’t even bother stopping at a shop on the way home to pick up something extra for him to eat. He was going to want proper food anyway, right? Well, that was simple enough. He’d just…just grab a few extras out of the fridge and sneak them up to his room after he got Akaashi in there. No problem. 

…Well, that was the plan, at least. And it was a good plan, solid and reliable, and totally ruined when it turned out his older sister was visiting, and heard him come in.

“Hey little brother!” she called out in a sing-song voice as he shut the door and announced he was home out of habit. “Did you miss meee? I brought—what the fuck, Kou. Is that…is that a  _ cat? _ ”

“Er,” he said, looking down at the carrier in his hands. “Um, no? It’s just empty, I swear! It…he…I…I gotta take it back next time I’m at school! Promised a friend.”

“Kou, I can see the cat. Why are you even bothering to lie right now?”

Shit.  _ Shit _ . “Well, you see…it’s… It’s Akaashi. My setter. He’s in a bit of a jam, and I said I’d help, so—”

“Jeez, Kou. You really have to stop being such a doormat. You’re looking after a  _ live animal  _ for this guy? Do you have any idea how much work you’re giving yourself? I mean…Okay, okay. Mum and dad will probably be fine with it, because they’re just as much a pair of bleeding hearts as you, but, seriously. Did you even consider what you’re gonna feed that thing? How long are you looking after it? You know you’re gonna need a litter tray too, and if it gets out it could bolt. Looking after a cat isn’t like taking in a dog. They  _ escape _ .”

“He won’t—it’s  _ fine! _ ” Koutarou said, clutching the carrier. “He’s not gonna run off, and it’s only for a day or so, and…honestly I know what I’m doing!”

She raised her eyebrow. “Really. That’s why you brought a cat home in a carrier without even telling anyone, and you didn’t even get this Akaashi guy to give you everything you needed to look after it, eh? He’s taking you for a ride, Kou.”

He couldn’t help it. The laughter bubbled its way up into an undignified snort which was going to get him in a  _ lot  _ of trouble, but really. Akaashi taking him for a ride? It was quite literally the other way round, and after all the stress and panic of getting this far he just had to bleed it off somehow. 

“Kou this is serious—”

“I know, I know! And I’m taking it really seriously, I promise,” he said, even as the last few chuckles slipped out and maybe proved him something of a liar. “But it’s…it’s really not like that, I swear.”

“Well how about you tell me what it  _ is  _ like. I’m allowed to look out for my little brother you know. People take advantage of you and you don’t even notice half the time.”

Koutarou scowled. “That’s not true,” he said. “I’m not stupid. I know what I’m doing. You never give me any credit.”

Hands on hips, she raised an eyebrow. “Well, fine. But don’t come crying to me when it all goes wrong and you get landed with that thing forever. I can’t think of a single legitimate situation in which someone would just hand you a cat on a whim and ask you to take care of it, without even offering to give you more than the carrier to hold it with.”

Koutarou finished kicking off his shoes and walked past her, grumbling random syllables rather than attempt to put his feelings into actual words. The sooner he got Akaashi up to his room the better, although the original plan would have to be tweaked a lot because now his sister was definitely going to go and tell his parents, and then they’d come up to his room ready to tell him off only to stop when they saw Akaashi himself because honestly, there was no sense in denying that he was a seriously…cute cat? Adorable? Lovable? He wasn’t really sure what word was best to describe his general feelings at that point, because they were decidedly messy, but he  _ could  _ be pretty confident that he was going to have to bring out the ‘he’s mean’ line again to stop his mother making an attempt to fuss over him or something.

Quite honestly, the prospect of either of his parents treating Akaashi like an actual, honest-to-god cat was pretty mortifying. It was bad enough when complete strangers did it—at least he could easily keep them away.

“Okay, you gotta hide,” he said, as soon as he’d reached the safety of his bedroom. “I’m pretty sure my sister’s gonna tell everyone I brought home a cat, and if you thought that little girl at the train station was bad, you just wait. Except don’t, because you’ll hate them even worse than Kuroo. Or, maybe a bit less because they don’t actually know you’re a person, and he—nevermind. Just…hide. Under my bed should be safe, or up on top of the wardrobe. I can lift you up there if you need me to, okay? But just…don’t stay where anyone can see you while I get something to eat, because they all really love animals.”

Akaashi stood at the little door of the cat carrier, and nodded solemnly before walking out. Koutarou had left the carrier on the floor, mindful of how Akaashi seemed to have a bit of a problem with sticking his landings when he jumped down from things. 

It was all Koutarou could do to keep his mouth shut as Akaashi trotted around the room, staring into each and every nook and cranny. Did he have any idea how funny it looked, with the way he still wobbled a little now and then?

_ No, because he’s probably a bit more worried that he’s still a cat and we don’t know how to turn him human again, _ he told himself firmly.  _ This is super serious and you have to help him, not make stupid faces like Shirofuku or all those people on the train did. _

It took Akaashi all of two minutes to make it very clear that he would not be hiding under Koutarou’s bed. If Koutarou had been struggling to keep a straight face before, the unmistakably offended expression on Akaashi’s face after he peered into the dark space between the boxes made it almost impossible. The only way he managed was by reminding himself that at some point they  _ would  _ get him human again, and he really didn’t want to be on Akaashi’s bad side at that point. 

He didn’t really have much time to think beyond that, because there was a knock at his bedroom door. It opened a hair, wide enough to convey intent while still granting him privacy.

“Koutarou dear, what’s all this about a cat?” his mother asked. 

_ Fuck _ .

He stared down at Akaashi in a panic, not at all impressed when the only response was a cold stare, eyes narrowed. Akaashi looked over at the two bags which he’d dumped on the floor beside the cat carrier, and raised a paw to point at them. 

_ No! _ he mouthed, shaking his head for added emphasis. Just to make things extra clear, he held a finger to his lips before getting to his feet and bounding over to the door, broad smile back in place.

“What cat?” he asked, clutching at the door and trying to meet his mother’s eyes. “I just have to look after some stuff for a teammate, that’s all.”

He winced as Akaashi yowled behind him. What, was everyone out to sabotage him or something? How was telling his family meant to help anything? He… there was no way he could tell them what was  _ actually  _ happening. 

“Koutarou, let me in,” his mother said. She had that look on her face like she was about to yell. Shit, and he’d been doing so well, too. 

“Listen, I can explain,  _ honest _ ,” he said, shoulders sagging as he swung the door open. Akaashi sat in the middle of the floor, staring up at him haughtily. “It…he… You can’t touch him, okay? He’ll get  _ really  _ angry.”

Akaashi narrowed his eyes and made another one of his awful, decidedly not catlike screeches. Koutaro winced, and risked a look at his mother. Things were about to go one of two ways and he really wasn’t sure which would be the worst option. If she flipped her lid he was going to have a hard time explaining why he needed to keep Akaashi in their house, but on the other hand, if she got too attached—

“Oh the poor thing!” she cried, instantly sealing both their fates. “I’m not surprised if he’s been lashing out—cats really don’t like being moved from one territory to another. He must be scared out of his mind.”

“No, he’s just angry,” Koutarou muttered, leaning against the wall. “Pretty sure that’s not gonna change any time soon, either.”


End file.
